Claire's Questions
by LittleBuddha
Summary: Claire learns about "the birds and the bees" at school. How does Quil react when she gets home and starts asking him questions? As she gets older, how does he deal with the questions of a teenage girl? Rated T for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed P**

**AN: After recently dealing with my little fifth grader cousin, this idea for a oneshot popped into my head and would not leave me alone. Please read and review! **_Italics are Quil's thoughts._

"_Where on earth is that girl? The bell rang 10 minutes ago!" _Quil sat impatiently outside of the colorful elementary school, still waiting for Claire to leave her fifth grade classroom. As on all other Fridays, Quil picked up Claire from school and babysat her for the day to celebrate the end of the school week. He mentally squashed his sometimes too-overprotective instincts that demanded he run around the school in a frantic search for his girl. Most of the parents had already taken their kids home, and he idly wondered about the unusually flustered children that he had seen leaving the classroom just minutes before. He had also seen many frazzled kids firing question after question at the stunned parents. He could only think of one thing that would cause such hysteria in the innocent fifth graders, but he uncomfortably pushed the suspicion away: _Oh God, please tell me they didn't learn what I think they learned!_

His desperate pleading was cut off as he spotted Claire leaving her classroom. In a moment, he realized that something was indeed off today. His usually bouncy girl had her brunette head bowed, her almond-brown gaze aimed at the floor as she took hesitant steps towards Quil. Kneeling to greet her with his customary hug, his eyes widened in shock as Claire nervously jerked _away_ from his open arms. He quickly repressed the quick pang of pain that her rejection caused and instead took her backpack from her arms. They walked to the car in silence, and Quil's forehead crinkled in puzzlement as he began to drive them home. He finally decided to break the awkward silence.

"How was your day, Claire-bear?"

"F-fine," the little girl stuttered, blushing and turning her head towards her open window. _Crap. Something has obviously made her uncomfortable. _

"Uh, did you learn anything interesting in school today?" His question was met with silence. Glancing at the girl to his right, he observed the distant look in her eyes that belied her deep concentration. The minutes passed in silence as Quil drove and continued to rack his brain for ways to make Claire speak to him. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he saw her chin raise in a stubborn tilt and heard her determined voice interrupt the quiet.

"Quil, have you ever had sexual intercourse?" Nearly swerving out of the lane in shock, Quil turned his wide eyes to the girl beside him.

"W-what?! Where did you hear that?"

"Sexual intercourse. We learned about it in school today. They put the boys in one room and us girls in another, and then we watched a video and then looked at some charts. Ms. Mills said that sexual intercourse is when a man puts his penis inside-"

"I KNOW WHAT IT IS!" he interjected. He frantically looked around for some kind of help that (he hoped) would miraculously appear out of thin air. Trying to distract the young girl from her question, he said, "Aren't you in the fifth grade?"

"Yes… and Ms. Mills said that we are at the age when we start to change and grow, and that we need to learn about this stuff soon. And she said that if we have any questions, it's okay to ask." With that, she quickly shot several questions at him that brought a rosy hue to his cheeks. _What are they teaching these kids?!_

As Quil's mind screamed out at the horror of having such a conversation with his darling, innocent, angelic Claire, he knew that this Ms. Mills was, unfortunately, correct. Claire _was _growing up, and (he felt slightly nauseous) would soon be hitting puberty and entering her teen years. Of course she would have questions. He tried to stifle the growing panic in his chest, and instead tried to behave as someone mature would. After all, he was a 25 year old man. He could handle a prepubescent eleven year old. Of course he could. Nothing to worry about.

"Well, Claire," he began. "Erm… Sexual intercourse is a very personal topic. You should be careful about what you ask and how much you say in public." _There, conversation ended and crisis avoided _Quil thought proudly. _Now we can get back to normal._

Claire quieted again until Quil arrived at his house and led her into the kitchen for a snack. As he shuffled around looking for edible food, he heard Claire speak.

"But Quil…" Claire continued, as Quil tried to resist banging his head against the refrigerator. "Ms. Mills said that sexual intercourse is part of life. She said that's where babies come from. That's how mom and dad had me. But Ms. Mills said sometimes people _accidentally_ get pregnant, and I don't understand how a penis _accidentally_ gets into a-"

"That's right, Claire" Quil quickly agreed to hush her. "Babies come from sexual intercourse. But uhhh… sexual intercourse isn't just about… having babies. It's… well, it's… it's… uhh a way for two people to show their love _when they are much, much older_ and_ very _responsible. Sometimes, they do it _just_ to show their love but _accidentally_ have a baby too." He sighed in relief at the end of his halted speech, but frowned once he saw the tears gathering in Claire's worried eyes.

"W-was I an accident?"

Quil's eyes softened at the eleven year old's worried question, and he gathered her up in his arms. Sitting down at the kitchen table and settling her on his lap, he answered "Oh, no Claire-bear. Your parents wanted you _so_ much. They tried to have you for a very long time."

"Really?" she looked up into Quil's eyes with a hopeful expression.

"Really." He hugged her close. "Who else would be my Claire-bear if you weren't here?" She giggled happily and kissed Quil on the cheek.

"I love you, Quil."

He gently kissed her forehead and hugged her close. "I love you too, Claire-bear."

**FEEDBACK IS MUCH APPRECIATED!! Did you hate it? Love it? Any suggestions? Seriously, guys, reviews really motivate us writers and help us improve. I welcome constructive criticism; flames, on the other hand, will be destroyed by my shiny red fire extinguisher. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed P**

**A/N Hey everyone! I'm back. I know the story was **_**supposed**_** to be a oneshot but it kind of just… exploded in my mind. I've decided to write more, and if all goes as planned the story should end up between 10 and 15 chapters. This is how it will go: each chapter will have Claire asking one question . It will continue as she ages and their relationship progresses. Please, please, please review! **_Italics are Quil's thoughts._

"Quil?"

Quil slid out from under the car he was working on in the garage. Still not looking at the newcomer, he reached for a towel and wiped off his sweaty face. After wiping off his wrench and slapping the dust from his cut off jeans, he finally fixed his impassive eyes on the young girl.

"Quil-"

"Where have you been, Claire?" She flinched at his too-calm tone, knowing that his paranoid over-protectiveness was boiling under the surface. He had quite the temper when he was upset. She just hoped she wouldn't have to deal with it today.

"Just around," she shrugged, hoping that he would drop the subject. He made a murmuring sound and nodded his head.

"Around. I see. And why would a twelve year old need to be 'around' exactly?" he asked lightly. "You were supposed to come over here right after school. I've been waiting for over an hour, wondering if you had been kidnapped or something."

"I was just taking a walk."

"Oh, a walk. Alright," he answered sarcastically, falling silent and mentally fuming. Claire could tell he was upset even though he had seemingly dropped the subject. Quil would never yell at her, but his clenched jaw and tense shoulders revealed his annoyance. As she scanned his body and further probed his mood, she was suddenly struck by the sheer size of the man. He was much taller than average, with broad shoulders, powerful legs, and a strong torso. The remembrance of her best friend Melanie's words from today hit her, and she realized with a pang of pain that Melanie may have been right. Though Claire was slightly embarrassed about the conversation, she knew that Quil would understand and answer her question. Hopefully he wouldn't be offended.

"Quil… Melanie said something at school today…" Hearing Claire's unsure mumble and not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, Quil turned to face her and relaxed slightly. He couldn't stay angry at her for long, so he just nodded to show he was listening.

"She said that you shouldn't be hanging out with me."

Quil felt a strange urge to laugh, but instead pressed his lips together and asked, "What makes her say that?" _The nerve of that girl!_ He also wondered if he should feel insulted.

"She says you are too old to hang out with a sixth grader so much." Claire paused. "She says it's not normal." Quil almost had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the laughter that fought to escape. If only 

they knew how "not normal" his relationship with Claire was! How do you explain imprints and werewolves to a pair of preteens? His amused thoughts were interrupted by Claire's question.

"Quil, why _do_ you hang out with me?" He froze, panicking for a moment. _What a question!_ _How do I explain this? _Being a typical male, he settled for evasion:

"Does it bother you that we hang out?" Claire rolled her eyes and stuck her hands on her hips at Quil's obvious attempts to distract her. Arching an eyebrow at him, she asked "What do you think?" Feeling like a child who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he looked down and shuffled his feet. It was moments like these that he forgot that Claire was only twelve and that _he _was the adult here.

"Quil, answer the question."

"It's a silly question."

"Then just answer it."

"You know the answer already."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"QUIL!"

He flashed a boyish grin at Claire. In some perverse way, he loved to annoy her. He loved how her eyes would flash and a tiny crinkle would appear in between her eyebrows. Trying to get one more shot at her, he asked, "Is this the reason behind your long walk today?" Already knowing that the answer was yes and afraid that she would do him bodily harm, he sighed dramatically and began:

"Claire, I've known you since you were two." Seeing a scowl begin to form on her face at his inadequate response, he continued. "Ever since your toddler self waddled over to me, we've been friends. What a smart little baby you were," he teased. "Even when you could barely talk, you realized what an amazing person I was," he finished with a smug grin. _That should satisfy her. This girl asks too many questions!_

"Oh, really?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow. "So you hang out with me because _you_ are an amazing person?"

"Yep."

"Oh, good to know," she huffed, crossing her arms tightly. Chuckling out loud at her slightly annoyed expression, he slung a heavy arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side. Her spine tingled at his unusually warm touch.

"Can't an _oooold_ man watch out for his wittle baby Claire-bear?" he asked as he tugged on her ponytail lightly.

Rolling her eyes yet again and trying to hide her silly smile, she shrugged his arm off and said "You aren't _that_ old. Stop being dramatic." With that, she spun around and started tidying up the messy garage. Standing still for a moment and watching her move around, Quil thought about how Claire had grown in the past few years. As a child, she was quiet, introverted, and afraid of displeasing him. Now, a saucy little almost-young-lady stood in front of him, dishing out attitude and standing up to him. Yes, he was 

physically older than her, but she was mentally catching up to him at a rate that almost scared him. His chest swelled with an unnameable feeling as he thought of the years to come and their future together. _God help me when she becomes a teenager. I don't stand a chance!_

**Alright guys, I hope you enjoyed this second chapter. The question for this one was "Why do you hang out with me?" Feedback is really appreciated and it keeps me motivated: liked it? Loved it? Hated it? I'm completely open to suggestions too: share any questions you would like Claire to ask Quil and we'll see how it goes ) Later!  
-Nanu **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed**

**AN: Alright, guys, I don't know Claire's last name so I just picked one off a Makah website I found. **_Italics are Quil's thoughts. _

"Claire?" Quil was standing in the upstairs hallway of Claire's house. As he neared her room at the end of the hall, he heard unusual sounds of shuffling slip out from under her closed bedroom door. _What is that girl doing now?!_

"Claire." He said more forcefully as he leaned closer to her door. "I'm going to come in! Open the door!" He raised his fist to pound on the thirteen year old's door but halted his hand's progression as it slowly creaked open. Poking his head in, he knew any other normal human male would have run at a first glimpse of Claire's bedroom. Even he, with all his experiences with terrifying vampires and bloody fights, had to force his feet to stay planted where they were.

Clothes. Piles of clothes covered the room, strewn over the bed, floor, desk, and even the ceiling lamp. And makeup. He saw different colored powder cosmetics thrown haphazardly all over the floor and nail polish bottles crowding Claire's side-table. His nose crinkled as he inhaled the heavily perfumed, too-floral air.

"Claire Lea Kaltha! What are you doing?!" Claire poked her head out of her bathroom to look at Quil. He almost took a step back at the sight of her: her eyelids were covered in flashy teal powder and her cheeks with bright pink blush. Her hair had been teased to the extent that it reminded him of a haystack. Moving his eyes further down her body, he took in her simple tank top and pajama shorts. Meanwhile, Claire had flashed him a sheepish smile and answered with an innocent, "Nothing."

"Nothing? This doesn't look like nothing, Claire. Your mother is going to kill you AND ME if she comes home to this mess, and I would like to know exactly what I'm going to die for." Scoffing at his overdramatic tone, she merely answered, "I'm just planning my outfit for tomorrow."

"_Planning _your outfit for _tomorrow?_ Is there something important happening?" As he looked at Claire, who was shuffling her feet and keeping her eyes on some point past his head, he realized that there was definitely something going on tomorrow.

"Nothing much. Melanie is having a barbecue at the beach since it's supposed to be sunny."

"Mmhmm," Quil answered skeptically. "And who is going to this barbecue?" Spots of pink appeared under the blush on Claire's cheeks. Quil's eyes narrowed as he began to suspect exactly _who_ would be at this barbecue. "That Ace kid is going to be there, isn't he?" With fists clenched, Quil tried to suppress the urge to sweep Claire up and hide her away from all teenage boys. Ace was some new kid at school who Claire and Melanie had been drooling over for the past few weeks. If he had to hear about Ace's "angelic blue eyes" or "sun-kissed hair" one more time, he was going to blow his brains out. Or, he thought happily, he could take this thirteen year old "stud-muffin" out. Mentally slapping himself for thinking about battling a kid for Claire's affection, he decided to return to the matter at hand.

"It's nothing, Quil," Claire tried to explain. "Just food, music, chit chat… Just the usual."

"If it's _just the usual_," Quil growled, "then _why_ is there a shirt hanging from your ceiling? What's with the makeup?" He tried to conveniently ignore the cause for his aggressive reaction: jealousy.

"Geez, what's your problem, Quil? Relax. It's just makeup. I know this might have slipped your notice, but I _am_ a girl." Quil backed down slightly as he realized that he had ruffled the feathers of an already irritated Claire, which was unusual for the laidback girl. He tried to deal with the situation in a less abrasive way:

"I know you are a girl, Claire. In case _you've_ forgotten, I've known you since before you could talk." He paused to let his words sink in. "I'm just wondering why you've taken a sudden interest in your appearance." Claire flushed once again and began to pick up her clothes in order to avoid looking at Quil.

"I don't know. I just wanted to look pretty tomorrow." With one sentence, she had Quil at her feet. He perched on her bed near where she was sitting cross legged on the floor, folding her clothes slowly.

"Claire, you look pretty how you are. You know that," he said gently. "And if this Ace guy can't see that, then what do you want him for?"

"I _really really_ like him, Quil," she whispered. "How can I get him to notice me?" Quil's chest contracted at Claire's quiet question. For a moment, he yearned for the days when Claire's biggest dilemma was what game to play or what story to read before bedtime, or when one of his silly jokes could solve any of her problems. Suddenly, his mind was dazzled with a sudden epiphany: his role in Claire's life was changing. Up until this point, she had looked to him as a father figure and invincible protector. He struggled to accept the fact that he was now becoming something else: a friend. Yes, a friendship had formed on the first day they met, but this kind of friendship was more _durable_, in a way. They were on equal, or almost equal, levels. She was asking for his advice not from a mentor's point of view, but from the perspective of a friend and peer. His realization had him staggering to form a sentence. He felt excited for the near future but also terrified of what would happen. _And things will only get harder from here._

"Quil?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I was just… thinking." Gathering his thoughts, he added, "I wouldn't worry about anything, Claire-bear. He'll notice you." _How could he not?_

"Do you think so?" Quil had to hold back a jealous grimace as he saw Claire's hopeful expression. _God, if I could only get my hands on this Ace kid…_

"Yeah, I really think so." He watched Claire continue to neaten up her room. Deciding to lighten the meditative girl's mood, he added, "And, if he _doesn't_ notice you, then it only proves one thing."

"He's blind?" Claire guessed, with an eye-roll at the clichéd response.

"No."

"He's dumb?"

"No. Well, yes, but not what I was thinking."

Claire thought for a moment and laughed as she found a typical-Quil response. "He's gay?"

"Exactly!" Quil couldn't help but smile at the cheery thought. _Hmmm, maybe I won't have to pay him a visit after all!_

**AN: Alright, guys and gals, the question for this chapter was "How can I get him to notice me?". I will be honest, this chapter gave me some trouble, and I'm still not sure I like how it turned out. Anyways, PLEASE REVIEW. The more feedback, the faster I write. The faster I write, the faster I update. Hehehe. Also, remember I'm open to any suggestions on what questions she can ask. Thanks!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.**

**AN: Hello, lovely readers! I have another chapter for you, as promised. Remember, Quil and Claire have a human (well, half human) relationship: meaning that they occasionally overreact , freak out, and/or fight. Relax though. Remember, reviews keep an author happy, and happy authors write faster!! **_Italics are Quil's thoughts. _

Quil closed the front door quietly as he entered, looking at the disappointed eyes of Claire's mom.

"She's in her room." Nodding silently, he continued on and walked up the stairs hesitantly. The long hallway to her bedroom felt like slow, painful torture. He finally arrived at her door, knocked, and waited with bated breath.

"Who is it?"

"It's me." Silence. _Please. Please. Please. Open the door._ He waited._ I'll count to ten, and if she doesn't open the door, I'll leave her alone._ He counted slowly and cursed when he reached the dreaded number. _I'll count to twenty, and if she doesn't open the door, then I'll __**really**__ leave her alone. _He cursed again when he reached twenty, but refused to move from her door. _Alright, this girl has thirty seconds to answer her door or I'll- _ the door suddenly creaked open, revealing Claire's pale, withdrawn face.

"What do you want?"

"Claire, please. You have to at least listen-"

"To what?" she questioned angrily. "Got some excuse? Do I _really_ seem interested in that?" She huffed and glared at him. He would have given her a heated answer, but he knew that her anger only covered up what she really felt: hurt. "Why weren't you there? What was so important that you completely missed the _stupid_ art show that _you_ pushed me to enter?"

"Something came up, and I couldn't just leave in the middle of it." _Wow, I am screwed._ How could he explain to Claire that a group of leeches had been found prowling around First Beach and he and the pack needed to kill all of them quickly? For a moment, he wished that Claire was eighteen, so that Sam would let him come clean to her about everything. He knew that if she was aware of the truth, she wouldn't be angry at him for missing her very first art show. Instead, he was standing in front of a severely pissed off, possibly hormonal fourteen year old. And, he had to lie to cover everything up. _Crap._

"Hm. Something came up," she said sarcastically. "Of course. How silly of me." Quil didn't even know what to say. Not only was he struggling to form a coherent sentence, he was staring in horror at the tears gathering in the corners of Claire's eyes. His silence must have further angered her because a torrent of angry words flew from her mouth.

"You didn't even call to let me know you couldn't make it. I _waited_ there like an _idiot_ so that I could personally show you my work! And all you can say is that _something came up?! _What kind of an explanation is that? Do you-" Quil cut her off before her tirade became unstoppable.

"Claire. Calm down. Are you going to let me explain or not?" Claire huffed, crossed her arms, and plopped down on her bed. She pursed her lips and looked at Quil expectantly.

"I can't tell you much," he began as a semi-lie began forming in his head. "It's a guy thing. Uh… Paul was having a personal emergency and Sam said I needed to be there for, you know, support. I can't say more, and please don't tell anyone I mentioned this to you. I need you to trust me on this, alright? If I could have been there with you, I would have. And I think you know that. I'm sorry. I really am."

Claire felt her anger fading away at Quil's explanation. Still, she felt the hurt at his absence tonight pulsing in her chest. She had really expected him to be there. When Claire came home from school one day and told him that her art teacher asked her to be in the local art show, he had almost burst with pride. He knew her artistic talent was beyond her years and told her so often. Modest by nature and shy in front of strangers, Claire had balked at having a whole wall at the exhibit just for her work. She didn't know if she could handle talking to random people about her inspirations, her techniques, and her paintings in general. Even scarier than that was the idea of people walking up to her wall and simply hating her work. She told Quil that she planned to refuse the art teacher's offer, and he had persistently insisted that she should enter her paintings. "The things we are scared of are usually the most worthwhile," he had said. "And I'll be by your side the whole night. You have nothing to worry about."

Well, she knew how _that_ had turned out. Still, he was partially right: it had been worthwhile. People actually liked her paintings. A lot. At first, many didn't believe that she was even old enough to create such evocative works. One guy had even pulled out his checkbook right there and offered to pay her generously for one of her pieces. She felt warmth and happiness flood her at the thought. Her parents had also shown up for a few minutes and proudly stood near her. Overall, it had been a good night. A great night. Thanks, ironically, to Quil.

Returning back to present time, she realized that she had been silent for a few minutes after Quil's explanation. She looked down at him, as he was sitting cross-legged on her floor, and noted the look of misery on his face. He obviously felt terrible, and she knew that he would continue to beat himself up unless she said something.

"It's alright, Quil. I understand," she said, even though she wasn't fully satisfied with his explanation. "It was one of those unexpected things that are out of your control. And it was a good experience for me to be on my own for a bit." She smiled at him comfortingly.

Quil looked up at her soft smile and felt his insides melt away. He couldn't believe how lovely she was growing to be. At fourteen, her womanly curves were just starting to fill out. He tried to steer his mind away from _those_ thoughts, as they could only lead to _other_ thoughts that he wasn't allowed to have until she reached a certain _older_ age. He instead focused on her wide smile and the look of childlike trust in her eyes.

"Good," he let out a breath. "I was almost positive that I had to buy your forgiveness with a tub of cookies-n-cream ice cream," he teased. Claire's mouth began to water at the thought of her favorite ice cream. Yummmmm.

"Oh, you do," she shared nonchalantly. "Full forgiveness will be granted once there is a gallon of cookies-n-cream in my stomach." She gave her belly a rub and looked at him expectantly. He chuckled, stood up, and grabbed his car keys.

"Alright, ice cream monster. Let's go." He slung an arm over her shoulder and led her out of the room. "Will you show me your paintings when we get home?"

"Sure. But a_fter_ we get ice cream." She hugged herself closer to Quil and smiled.

**AN: This chapter has Claire asking a lot of angry rhetorical questions. However, the key question for the chapter was "Why weren't you there?" The chapter kind of just took on a mind of its own. Anyways, feel free to suggest any other questions Claire could ask. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW and you get a cyber Quil-shaped cookie. Later!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.**

**AN: Hey all! I'm excited for this chapter. First of all, there's an appearance from one of my favorite werewolves. I'll let you see which one. And also, a warning: there's a bit of bad language in here. Nothing too serious though. Enjoy and please, please, please REVIEW!**

"You are overreacting. Get up, we're going out." The only reply to Embry's demand was a groan from the lump on the couch, followed by a heavy, mournful sigh.

"Why is she doing this to me?" the lump asked. "I'm getting older. My heart can't handle this kind of stress. I'm going to die of a heart attack. She's going to kill me." Embry rolled his eyes and scoffed at the lump's dramatic antics.

"You have the body of a teenager. I don't think you are going anywhere anytime soon. Now stop being a pussy and get up off that damn couch!" Embry stalked up to the lump and ripped off the blanket it was hiding under. Quil only gazed up at Embry with his sad, puppy-dog eyes. "I don't even know how to deal with you!" he yelled. "Get up! It's not the end of the world! It's just a date!" Quil finally reacted and shot up.

"Just a date?" he growled in Embry's face. "Do you know what this _means?_ Do you know what _happens_ on dates? She's only fifteen! She has barely started high school! And that… that stupid boy! Whatever his name is!"

"Daniel," Embry added in.

"Daniel! Who does he think he is asking Claire out? She shouldn't be with boys at this age!"

"If I remember correctly, you went on your first date when you were fourteen."

"That's different!" Quil hissed. "I…I… I had purely honorable intentions!" Embry gave Quil a skeptic look. "Fine. I didn't. But it was different then! I didn't have Claire back then!"

"No, you didn't," Embry agreed, placing a supportive hand on Quil's shoulder. "But Claire knows what she's doing. She's behaving as any normal teenager at her age would. You should trust her. And if something _does_ happen between them, is it such a big deal? She wouldn't let it go so far."

"You didn't see her face today, Embry. She was so excited..."

FLASHBACK : FOUR HOURS EARLIER, AT CLAIRE'S HOUSE

"Woah, Claire-bear. What's going on in here?"

"Quil!" the frantic teenager cried. "I have nothing to wear!" Quil looked at her closetful of clothing, then at the shirts and jeans and shoes and skirts piled high on her bed. He turned his eyes back to hers with a raised eyebrow. She huffed. "Well, I have _stuff_ obviously," she began. "But I don't have anything to wear _tonight. _Daniel will be here in 45 minutes!" She was giddy with excitement and bubbling with nervous energy already.

Quil plopped down on her bed and folded his arms as he tried to resist the urge to pout like a four year old denied the attention he craved. He looked around passively and tried to ignore the ache in his chest. _Claire, on a date. Claire, with a guy. Claire, on a date with a guy who is not me._ He felt a sudden flare of anger and frustration directed towards Claire rise up: why was she so damn _happy_ about this Daniel? He couldn't care for her like Quil could! And he was obviously interested in only one thing from her. And she was falling for his tricks!

"Claire!" The teenager froze and turned to Quil with eyes wide and surprised at his sudden outburst.

"Uh… Yeah?"

"What exactly do you think you are doing?" Claire continued to look at Quil with puzzled eyes.

"Erm… I'm getting dressed?"

"Yes, you are. But _why_ are you getting dressed?"

"Is that some kind of trick question?" Claire mentally shrugged her shoulders at Quil's weird behavior and continued to shuffle through her clothing, almost disappearing into her closet. "You know I have a date tonight."

"Yeah, how could I forget?" he snarled. "It's all you've been talking about for the last two weeks!" She paused again, poking her head out of her closet to look at Quil. She took in his flushed cheeks and quicker than usual breathing.

"Quil, why does this bother you so much?"

"It doesn't bother me!" he shrilled defensively. That was a blatant lie. He knew _exactly_ why it bothered him so much. Claire was _his_; the universe's higher power (or whatever force was out there; he didn't presume to know) had created her with _Quil_ in mind. She wasn't meant to be a passing amusement to Daniel. She was _his_, even if she didn't know it yet. But, he couldn't exactly tell her all that. _Yet._ "I just don't see why you are making such a big deal out of this single date."

"It's my _first date_, Quil. I want it to be memorable and fun. And I'm not making it a big deal: I just want to look good tonight. Is that so bad?" Quil grumbled, feeling abashed for his _slight_ overreaction. It wasn't a big deal, was it? No, not a big deal. No biggie. Small, very small. Teeny tiny, in fact. _Yeah, right. Wishful thinking._ He knew he had to leave before The Date. Otherwise, some form of bodily harm could befall this Daniel before he got through the front door. Accidentally, of course. He decided to make a quick exit and allow Claire to do her pre-date girl regimen (before he ended up killing someone, a fifteen year old male someone).

"Well, Claire, I think I'm going to head out." Claire lifted her shining eyes to Quil; he felt both glad and nauseous to see the happiness in her face. Glad that she was happy, and nauseous that someone else was making her so. He had to leave, now. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke:

"Don't forget your curfew. I'll call at eleven to make sure you are home."

"I know." She rolled her eyes at Quil's overprotective antics.

"And stay in well-lit areas."

"I know."

"And keep your cell phone on."

"I know."

"And be safe."

"I know."

"And-"

"I KNOW, QUIL!" She laughed. "Relax, we are just going to see a movie. I'll be home early and I'll call you to let you know how it went. Now, get out! I need to get ready! I'm so nervous!" She giggled and placed her hands on his back and literally pushed him out the door.

"Bye, Clai-" The door slammed before he could finish the sentence. He didn't know whether to be hurt or amused: a little bit of both, maybe. He sighed to himself and turned to return home. Alone. _But not for long, hopefully_.

**Well, I hope you guys liked it! The ending was a little sadder than usual, but still (I think) hopeful. The question for this chapter was "Why does it bother you so much?"My lovely readers, please review. A little feedback goes a long way! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.**

**AN: Sorry for the late update, guys! School decided to take over my life :(**** REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! **_Italics are Quil's thoughts._

"Claire! Stop! Stop!" he felt his entire body clench in heart-stopping fear. She wasn't stopping! What was he going to do? Oh, God. This was it. He failed. He was a terrible protector. How could he live without her? How could he explain to her parents that-

"Quil." The car came to a slow stop parked neatly by the curb. She put the car in park, shut it off, and turned to face her hysterical passenger. Raising an eyebrow, she asked "Is ten miles per hour too fast for you?"

Quil turned his wide eyes to the driver's seat. His heart was still pumping madly. It took his mind a minute to wrap around one fact: they shouldn't be here. His Claire, learning to drive a _car._ And at sixteen too! She was too young! She wasn't ready. A car was a _weapon_, she could _kill_ someone with it. Someone could kill _her_. His heart once again contracted in fear at the thought. Oh, God. What was he thinking, promising to teach her how to drive? Had he _lost his ever-loving mind?!_

"Claire, I think we need to head back. You aren't-"

"What do you mean we need to head back?" She blinked, wondering if this was some kind of joke. "We're a block from my house. We've been driving for five minutes. You promised-"

"I know what I promised, Claire. I said _when you are ready_ I will gladly teach you how to drive." His jaws and fists clenched as he prepared for the explosion he knew was coming. He didn't blame her: he had kept her waiting for her first lesson ever since she had gotten her permit three months ago. Now, he was ending the lesson before it had really started. He would be angry, too. He remembered the excitement and the thrill that came with driving, the incredible feeling of maturity and _freedom_. He had promised her that, and now he was backing out like a coward.

And he fully accepted his cowardice. He admitted it freely: he was a coward when it came to Claire. He was afraid of her getting hurt, afraid of her doing something stupid, afraid of losing her respect and love because of something silly. He was afraid that she would find someone else, or that she wouldn't accept him when she finally learned the truth about his not-so-human self. He was afraid she would reject him, or not understand, or hate him for lying all these years. He was, simply put, terrified.

Speaking of terrified, he was still waiting nervously for the explosion of anger that would surely rip him to shreds. He turned to her, expecting to find tears or blazing eyes or flushed cheeks, and instead found… nothing.

She wasn't even looking at him. She simply had her head down and was picking at her nails quietly, peeling of the hot pink nail polish she had painstakingly applied earlier. Not knowing what to say, he turned his head forward and stared at nothing for a few minutes. Suddenly:

"Ah, Quil," he heard Claire sigh. She was shaking her head gently and looking at her lap in… regret? Confusion? _Why isn't she ripping my head off right now?_

"Do you know how old I am now?" Quil stopped for a moment, surprised at the question. Of course he knew how old she was! Did he think he had forgotten that he had only two more years until she was eighteen?! As if he thought of anything else!

"I know you are sixteen," he said simply, unsure where she was going with this. He knew she was sixteen: _only_ sixteen, meaning she wasn't ready for the dangers of driving. _It's too soon. She needs more time before-_

"Do you _really_ know, though?" she asked quietly. "_Really?_ Because you are treating me like a little kid. I'm over sixteen, Quil. I should've started learning how to drive months ago. I'm responsible, and careful, and I know what this involves." Quil didn't know what to say: she _was_ responsible, and careful, and he was positive she knew the dangers and duties of driving. _Considering I've lectured her endlessly._ _But still.._

"Age is only a number, Claire. Sixteen doesn't mean you are mature enough for this."

"Sixteen doesn't mean that I'm _not_ mature enough for this." He paused at her convoluted sentence, trying to make sense of it. To be honest, he didn't know why he kept resisting her. Logically, he knew he couldn't argue with her anymore: she was telling the truth, after all. He quietly gathered his thoughts on the matter until:

"You know, I think _you_ are the one not ready for me to drive." Quil's eyes widened at the teen's thought. He turned to face her once again, inexplicably feeling hurt. How could she say that?! He was only concerned about her safety! If she wanted to get herself killed on the road, then fine! But it wouldn't be with his permission!

"Get out of the car. We're going home _now. _I'm not going to argue with you anymore." Claire refused to move even as Quil swung open his car door and stomped over to the driver's side. He wrenched open her door and stood over her, trying to intimidate her into acquiescence. Though Quil's anger was something to fear, Claire didn't feel scared at all. She knew that she had hurt and shocked him, and that he was using anger as a shield.

Peering up into his eyes intently, Claire slowly slid out of the car, angling her body towards Quil's and moving so close to him that she could feel his body heat. She slid her hands up to his broad shoulders and pulled herself to him in a soothing hug (which was quite the challenge, considering he was over a foot taller than her).

Quil's breath froze in his chest and he shuddered as Claire pressed her body against his, any anger he had felt forgotten. He instinctively reacted to the hug, pulling her to him and burying his face in her hair. It was _so difficult_ to keep his control around her lately, and she didn't make it any easier. This hug was different than the others, as well. The air almost sizzled around the pair. Quil relaxed into the embrace and sighed. He needed this. As Claire had entered her adolescence and teenage years, he had had to physically distance himself from her. Her had parents asked that he keep the touching to a minimum, as she was entering a confusing and turbulent time. He had agreed, and so friendly hugs and kisses on the cheek had become much rarer. He had missed this, but the heady tension of this hug startled him. Things had changed between them, so slowly that he hadn't noticed until this moment.

The hug strongly affected Claire as well, catching her off guard and even frightening her for a moment. She wasn't prepared for the flare of heat that rose up in her stomach as Quil wrapped his sinewy arms around her. She wasn't ready for the shocked intake of breath as his musky aftershave and spicy scent bombarded her nose and senses. And she definitely wasn't expecting her heart to erratically skip a beat or two as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. She found that she liked the feeling of Quil's body against hers, so close that she could share his body heat and feel him breathe.

Quil finally forced himself to break the embrace, putting a few inches of distance between them before he lost his control and ran off with her. They stared at each other for a few minutes, taking in each other's quickened breath and dilated pupils. Finally, Quil had reached the end of his rope. He broke off the almost too-intimate eye contact and stepped away from her body.

Nervously rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, he simply said, "Get back in the car. We'll give this another shot." Claire smiled and hopped back into the seat, innocently gazing at him. Quil slowly walked to the passenger's side, taking deep, cleansing breaths and feeling slightly shy. _That girl really will kill me one day. And she doesn't even need the damn car to do it!_

**AN: Phew, is it getting hot in here or is it just QuilXClaire yumminess? I hope you guys liked the chapter! Sorry for the delay: it's slightly longer than usual to make up for my late update. The question for this chapter was "Do you (really) know how old I am?" I actually had another question planned for this chapter, but it just wasn't working. I hope you enjoyed it anyways! As I told many of you, the times are a-changing :P. Feedback is really appreciated! Later!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.**

**AN: Hello, guys! I stayed up all night to get this chapter to you, so I hope you enjoy it. You guys will probably grow angry at me with this chapter, but I feel this is a necessary step in their relationship. Please keep an open mind and review!! **_Italic's are Quil's thoughts._

Quil awoke with a start, fumbling around in the darkness. He heard his cell phone vibrating on his side table. Frowning as he glanced at his bright clock, he prepared to yell at whoever was calling him at this hour. It was nearly one in the morning, for god's sake! He already told the pack he would be sleeping early after a grueling day of patrolling the rez. Who else would call? He finally grabbed a hold of his phone and squinted at the Caller ID: CLAIRE (MOBILE). He flipped the phone open with a lightning-fast flick of his wrist and answered the call:

"Hello?"

"Quil?!" He heard Claire's distressed voice on the other line but was distracted by the blaring music and loud voices in the background. He tried to suppress an angry growl as he began to suspect where she was. But just for clarification:

"Claire! Where are you?"

"Please, Quil!" she continued, disregarding his question in her panic. "Please! I- I want to come home! Can you come get me?! Now?"

"Claire.." he sighed at her distraught voice.

"Please, Quil!" she quickly cut him off before he could finish his sentence. He inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose and feeling his heart contract at her scared voice.

"Of course I'll come get you," he began, hoping to ease her fear for the present (he planned to give her an earful at a more suitable time). "But you have to tell me where you are." He paused, listening for her answer. He heard her stop breathing for a moment. "Claire, it's okay. Just tell me."

"I'm at Jake White's house." Quil tried to grasp the name from his memory. His anger flared up as he remembered the guy in question, bad-boy reputation included.

"Jake White? The football player?"

"Y-yes."

"Isn't he a senior? The one who got the DUI last month?"

"Yeah." Quil took some deep breaths, hoping to quell his impulse to yell and scream and stomp around in frustration. He simply asked Claire for the address, told her to stay put, and grabbed his car keys.

**30 MINUTES LATER**

Claire sat in the passenger's seat of Quil's car, bundled up in a blanket and frowning. Quil was silently fuming to her left, glaring at the empty road ahead of him. Both were thinking of the argument that had yet to happen. Claire quietly prepared herself for Quil's wrath, and Quil thought about what to do. He felt furious at Claire's stupidity for sneaking out to a party of wild teenagers. At the same time, he felt immense relief that he had caught her before anything catastrophic could have happened.

Should he yell at her? Yes, she had made a dumb choice, but he wasn't sure of their relationship anymore. At the age of sixteen, she was a young woman, finally growing into her independence. Did he still have the right to chastise her as a parent would chastise their child? Remembering the drunken teenagers and chaotic, irresponsible partying, he decided that yes, he still enjoyed that prerogative. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and began his speech:

"Claire, you know what you did was wrong. I'm not going to lecture you on what a _stupid_ decision you made tonight. I just have a quick question." Claire raised her downcast eyes and looked up at Quil to show she was listening. He began again:

"_What_ on _earth_ made you think it was a _good idea_ to go to _Jake White's_ house and _party_ with the entire football team and their slutty groupies!?" Claire's ashamed eyes drifted down to her knees. She didn't even know how to answer him.

"I.. I just thought a night out wouldn't hurt anyone. I didn't drink or anything."

"A night out wouldn't hurt anyone? Claire! You are sixteen! You have _no business_ being at a party like that! Did you take the time to wonder why Jake White, of all people, would invite a sophomore to his party?"

"Our lockers are near each other, so we've been talking recently and I just thought―"

"No, you didn't think," Quil interrupted. "You didn't think at all. I expected you to be more mature about this and to think logically. There is only _one_ reason why a guy like him would invite a girl like you to one of his parties." Claire blushed at what Quil was implying. She really didn't want to be talking about _that _with him. Quil continued on, unaware of Claire's discomfort:

"I thought you knew all this and that I could trust you to make good decisions. But I guess I can't. So, Claire, let me explain this to you: older guys are only after one thing, alright?" He found himself getting angry at her naivete: how could she put herself in such a dangerous situation? He began to rant as his raging frustration got the best of him.

"You should know that by now! God, have you learned nothing? Do you not listen to me when I talk? Don't you see all your stupid girl friends making all the same mistakes? I know you know better, Claire. What if I tell your parents where you were tonight, hmm? Maybe that would teach you to think before you act." Claire could feel her own anger start to stir: yeah, she had made a mistake, but she was not a child! He was being so patronizing! She decided to try and end the Quil's tirade before it got out of hand:

"I know, Quil, I know. I get it. You don't have to.. freak out like this."

"Oh, so now _I_ don't get to freak out after _you_ are the one who messed up! Don't you forget, Claire, that _you_ were the one who accepted Jake White's invitation. What did you honestly think he wanted from you? Good, intelligent conversation?" Claire's temper was about to explode. Her eyes narrowed as she reached the end of her rope: Quil was taking this too far.

"Learn this now" Quil added, still not paying attention to Claire's reaction. "Any older guy who hangs out with you only wants one thing. He'll do whatever he can to get it from you, too. Don't be a dumbass, Claire. This is the real world."

Claire felt her blood boiling. Why was he talking to her as if she was an ignorant little girl?! She wasn't going to shut up and take it anymore!

"All this coming from a man who is nearly twelve years older and spends most of his time with me! I should feel pretty worried." Claire regretted the words the second they left her mouth, stunned that she had actually said them. Meanwhile, Quil had pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the car. Shaking with anger, he slowly turned to face her and the words "if looks could kill" came to mind. For the first time in her life, Claire honestly had no idea what Quil would do. She had pushed him too far. Suddenly, Quil's quivering stopped and his face became totally blank. Only his burning eyes betrayed his fury. Claire remained frozen as she waited for him to react. Suddenly:

"If I wanted _anything_ from a woman, trust me, I wouldn't have to go to a _sixteen year old GIRL_ to get it." He smirked but felt his quick sense of triumph crumble at the stricken expression on Claire's face. She quickly turned away from him, but not before he saw the tears gathering in her eyes. He suddenly wished that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

**AN: So, there you have it. Please, guys, keep in mind that I want this relationship to be realistic: imprint or no imprint, every (semi) couple fights occasionally! People say things they don't mean in their anger. The question for this chapter was "Can you come get me?". If you guys didn't understand why Claire was hurt at the end, it was because Quil not only called her a little girl but also implied that he has no interest in Claire beyond that of a father figure. And that he could possibly be sleeping around with other women that Claire doesn't know about. This is especially awkward for Claire since she's beginning to have feelings for him. Anyways, I hope that cleared up any confusion. REVIEW PLEASE! If you hated it, feel free to share in a constructive way. I think I took a big risk with this chapter. We'll see how it works out!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.**

**AN: Hello guys! You have werewolves-like-baking to thank for this chapter: her pen name immediately inspired this scene. And thank you guys SO MUCH for the amazing feedback last chapter! Almost 40 reviews for a single chapter! I love you all so much I can't believe it. **

Claire sadly dumped the sack of flour onto the kitchen counter. Two weeks. Two weeks, and he had not come to talk to her or see her. After all the cruel things he had said to her, she thought she would receive an apology or at least an explanation. Her chest clenched painfully as she remembered her horrible words to him. _She_ owed him an apology as well; after all the love and care he had shown her throughout the years, she had implied that his intentions were less than honorable. She tried to blink away the tears before they dripped into the cookie batter she was mixing, but her melancholy grasped her in a firm grip. She was ungrateful, insensitive, careless, irrational―

"Claire?" Claire's eyes widened and she almost dropped the sugar in her surprise. Turning around, she spotted the person of her thoughts standing uncomfortably at her kitchen door. She hungrily scanned him from head to toe: he was hesitantly standing with one foot in the room, unsure whether to completely enter or not. She turned back around to face her mixing bowl, surreptitiously wiping her eyes and adding some baking powder.

"Claire, your mom called me today." Claire measured out a few tablespoons of salt and added them to her dry ingredients, effectively ignoring the giant man crouched in her doorway. "She said I needed to come see you, and now I know why." He looked around the kitchen with a stunned expression on his face. "Have you stopped baking since I last saw you?"

Claire paused in her mixing to look scan the kitchen; she might have overdone it _a tiny bit._ The counters were lined with muffins: blueberry, chocolate, vanilla, marble, apple crumb, and a few others she had made up. Her eyes moved to the hundreds of cookies stacked in the corner and then to the half dozen pies sitting neatly atop the refrigerator. She had made a few Bundt cakes, complete with homemade frosting and colorful sprinkles. She knew that there were double fudge brownies with extra chocolate chips cooling in the refrigerator, and more baking in the oven. Yep, she had been busy.

"I thought you liked my baking," she answered simply.

"You know I love your baking, but that's not what I asked." She heard Quil sigh at her silence behind her and instinctively knew he was nervously running his hands through his already messy hair. She tried not to grin at the endearing picture she knew he presented or at the compliment he had given her. She had really missed him.

"Claire…."

"I'm busy, Quil. I need to finish these cookies before I start my homework." Claire again regretted her words. Here he was, standing in her kitchen _finally_, after _two whole weeks,_ and she was trying to blow him off! She would have slapped herself if her hands weren't covered in flour. Quil didn't answer, so she continued on with her work, softening some butter in a smaller bowl. She heard him move to the sink behind her and turn on the water to wash his hands. Only her stubbornness and embarrassment kept her from peeking to see what he was doing. Hoping to appear nonchalant, she added the butter to her dry ingredients and started to dig her hands into the batter, folding and mixing the cookie goop. She became so engrossed in her work that she didn't sense the body heat behind her until she felt Quil's strong hands on her shoulders.

"Claire."

She held her breath and her eyes fluttered shut as she took in Quil's presence and warm whisper in her ear. She wanted to turn around and bury her face in his chest. Unfortunately, her hands were stuck in the cookie batter so she had no choice but to do nothing. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened as she felt Quil's large palms slide down her shoulders and forearms, his fingers finally entwining with hers and digging into the gooey batter. He had effectively trapped her against the counter with his body, but she couldn't bring herself to mind. They mixed quietly for a few minutes, their fingers brushing each other's as they worked together. She reveled in the feel of his deep breaths, the smell of his aftershave, and heart beat against her back.

"It's been a while since we've done this," Quil said quietly.

"Yeah." Claire was momentarily taken back in time to when she was a little girl spending the day in the kitchen with Quil. He used to place a stool next to him so that she could reach the counter. He would measure out the ingredients and then hand them to her so that she could add them to the giant mixing bowl. It took them a while and they always made a mess, but they giggled and laughed throughout the whole baking process. She yearned for the times when things were so simple, when a day baking with Quil was simply fun. Not filled with tension so palpable that she could cut it with a knife.

They quietly rolled up the cookie dough into balls and put them in the oven. Not sure what to say, Claire went to the sink to wash the dishes. After a few minutes the silence started to bother her. Why was he just _standing there, looking_ _at her_? Did he come over just to bake cookies and stare at her? She had to break the tension somehow, so she dried her hands and turned around.

"Would you like a cookie? I have a lot of muffins too… I know you like the chocolate ones I make. And there are brownies in the fridge and―"

"We need to talk," he interrupted. "This can't go on any more." Claire's clenched her hands in fear. Quil's somber look didn't help her figure out what he was thinking. Did he plan on apologizing or just talking everything out? Did he want to criticize her for her stupidity two weeks ago? Claire's heart stopped as another possibility entered her mind: did he come to tell her that he didn't want to be around her anymore? Maybe the past few weeks of his absence were meant to tell her so. Did he see another side of her that he refused to be around? She had been vindictive and insensitive that night, after all. Was he disappointed in her? She knew he must be. Would he walk out of her kitchen and never speak to her again?

"Claire, you can't keep pretending that our argument a few weeks ago didn't happen. It won't just go away like that…" She started to feel tendrils of panic creeping over her chest. She had to stop him before he broke their friendship off completely!

"I'm sorry!" she all but yelled. Quil froze mid-sentence and gazed at her with wide eyes. "I'm.. just.. sorry! I shouldn't have said what I did and you don't have to worry anymore or leave. I won't act like a bitch anymore, ok? So stay." Quil continued to gape at her for a few minutes before a smile formed on his face and he started to laugh.

"Claire-bear, what are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere." Claire's frown relaxed slightly and she looked up at him.

"You're not?"

"No. I was just tired of 'giving you your space' these past few weeks and I wanted to talk to you. I had planned to come kidnap you today whether your mom called or not." He smiled and came to stand close to her. "I'm sorry, too."

"We both were out of line," Claire agreed. "But I guess that happens once in a while. We're only human, after all." Quil quietly smirked to himself and thought about just how _human_ he was.

"I'm sorry I didn't try to see you sooner," she added. Quil slung his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. Her shirt had ridden up slightly while she had been baking and stirring, so she nearly jumped at the feel of his warm hand on her bare hip.

"It's alright. I should've been over here a week ago if the state of your kitchen says anything." He laughed when she raised her fist to thump him in the chest.

"You shouldn't be complaining. You love my baking. I made your favorite brownies, too." She laughed as she felt Quil's stomach give a hungry growl.

"Hmmm, did you? Now where would these heavenly double fudge brownies be? Just out of curiosity." Claire laughed at the playful gleam in Quil's eyes. She pointed to the refrigerator and he quickly flung its door open and began his hunt. As she gazed at him sitting happily at the counter, quickly demolishing the brownies, she couldn't help the aching warmth that spread through her chest. He quickly finished the first plate of brownies and looked up at her shyly. Grinning back at him, she brought him the next plate and sat down to eat with him. She smiled as he brushed a kiss to her temple and dove back into the chocolate treats. Oh yes, she was _definitely_ glad that things were back to normal.

**AN: I hope you liked the resolution! The question for this chapter was "You're not (leaving me)?" Thanks again to all those who reviewed last chapter: please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I wanted to keep it light and simple after last chapter's angst. Review and you get one of Claire's brownies!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed. Except for Quil. He'll be severely shaken up by the time I'm done with him.**

**AN: Sorry for the late update, dearies! With all the extra work that school is laying on me, you should start expecting a chapter every 1.5 weeks or so. I've also suffered from an elusive Muse lately :( I hope you guys like this chapter anyways. Feedback is much appreciated!**

_Quil, lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head, looked up at the light blue sky. The fluffy clouds lazily drifted by and he idly tried to find shapes in the white puffs above him. He was distracted from his activity by movement out of the corner of his eyes. He turned his head to see Claire running across the grass, a broad smile on her face as she caught sight of him. His breath caught in his chest: she looked amazing. _

_He slowly got to his feet as she stopped by his side, looking expectantly at him with joyful eyes. His eyes scanned her from head to toe: her yellow sundress chastely hinted at her recently-acquired cleavage and revealed the soft skin of her neck and shoulders. Her wavy hair was flowing down her back, the loose curls looking like burnished bronze. He couldn't move as he saw her hand timidly reach up and touch his cheeks, and his heart almost stopped as her fingertips brushed his lips. She slid her hand to the back of his neck, gently tugging his head closer to hers. His eyes widened as he watched her face draw closer, closer―_

"Good morning, sunshine!" Embry's booming voice filled up the cramped bedroom. Quil groaned and burrowed into the mattress, hoping that the bubbly werewolf would magically disappear.

"Up! Get up! Claire will be here in 10 minutes." Quil suddenly launched himself out of bed and flew into the bathroom to brush his teeth, grumbling about Embry's impeccable timing. A few more seconds of dreaming could have given Quil an extra bounce to his step that day. Embry, guessing exactly what kind of dream he had interrupted, chuckled lightly: only Claire could get Quil out of bed this early in the morning. He went to answer the knock on the door as Quil shuffled around the bathroom.

"Hey, kid." Embry tried to stifle his laughter: Quil was in for it today. Imprint or not, Embry definitely was not blind: Claire looked _good_. Her yellow sundress complemented her tan skin and brown curls. She seemed to have taken the time to apply some eyeliner and lip gloss too. Something was definitely different with her.

"Hi, Embry! Where's Quil? We have to get going if we want to make it to the beach while the sun is out."

"Quil just woke up," Embry said simply. Claire laughed and made her way to the kitchen to pack some food for the day. A few minutes later, a ruffled Quil appeared running a hand through his already messy hair. Claire took a moment to appreciate his black T-shirt and his blue and white swimming shorts. She felt an involuntary shiver crawl down her spine: the shirt clung to his broad back and arms, showing off the muscle and strength of his torso. She mentally sighed: he was gorgeous.

Meanwhile, Quil was attempting to find his jaw somewhere on the floor. Claire seemed to have materialized from his not-so-innocent dream last night: the yellow sundress, the hair, even the cute little pink toenails. He clenched his fists in an effort not the grab her and… Well, he'd better not continue with _that_ thought.

"You ready, Claire? We should head out soon," Quil tugged on his sleeve uncomfortably. Claire rolled her eyes.

"I've been ready for hours. Let's go."

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

Claire maneuvered over the hot sand carefully as Quil strolled ahead of her with their stuff in his arms. He set everything down by the water and turned to face her as she bent over to spread out their blanket. Swallowing heavily, he held his breath as Claire kicked off her slippers and went to pull off her sundress.

The world stopped spinning. Quil's eyes widened to the size of saucers and he had to stifle a pained groan. Oh God, how could she do this to him? But more importantly, _where. did. she. get. that?_

"Quil? Are you alright? What's wrong?" Claire looked at her friend with concern. His eyes were glazed, his face flushed, and his breathing uneven. Was he sick?

"F-fine. Fine. I'm fine." Quil could not resist ogling Claire and her new choice of swimwear. She had previously worn only one-pieces in the water. For the first time, Quil was faced with a challenge that he was not sure he could overcome: a black bikini. As far as bikinis went, he could not help but observe that it was a tasteful one: it didn't reveal too much skin and covered everything that needed to be covered. It somehow accentuated her shapely cleavage without putting everything on display. The top had a little gold loop holding together the two sides in front. Overall, it was a fairly standard bikini.

But on _Claire, _he thought to himself, the bikini took on a new sort of beauty. She looked hot, to put it quite frankly. As his thoughts took a slightly inappropriate turn, Quil realized that he had to distract himself as quickly as possible. He sprinted to the water with a rushed "I'mgoingswimmingseeyouinabit" thrown in Claire's direction.

Plopping down onto the brightly-colored blanket, Claire sulked and pouted. Did he even _notice_ her new bikini? He barely looked at her before he spazzed out and dunked himself into the ocean. Typical Quil: so oblivious to what was right in front of his face. How could she get through to that man?

She had recently detected the slow changes taking place between her and Quil. She knew she was starting to have "more-than-friendly" feelings for her friend and couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her. Sometimes, she would turn around to find him looking at her in such a heated way that she would immediately flush. Other times, he would look on obliviously as she tried to catch his eye. What did that mean? Why was he so hard to understand?

Claire continued to grumble about her careful plans gone awry: it wasn't supposed to happen this way. Quil was supposed to see her in the bikini, go crazy over it, and… and what? Kiss her? Yes, she would definitely like that. But what were the chances of that ever happening? Quil didn't think of her that way. To him, she was just a sixteen year old girl that he had known for many years. She bitterly resented the age difference: maybe if she was older, Quil would look at her in _that way._ Maybe if she was smarter, prettier, funnier, more playful. Maybe then he'd look at her with interest. Maybe.

Feeling depressed and hopeless, Claire flopped onto her back and closed her eyes, trying to keep her frustrated tears at bay by flinging an arm over her eyes. As she lightly dozed in the afternoon sun, she was unaware of the light brown eyes thoughtfully gazing at her curvy figure, the smile forming at her quiet snoozing, and the heart beating erratically at the thought of kissing her.

**AN: Well, there you have it! FYI Claire is still 16 in this chapter, which takes place during the summer between sophomore and junior year in high school. The question(s) for this chapter was "Are you alright? What's wrong?" This chapter turned out very different from how I had planned it. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing. You tell me, hehehe. REVIEWWWW and I may just write faster ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed**

**AN: Sorry for the late update, guys! I completely restructured where the story is going and it took me a while to get my thoughts back in order. I'm happy with what I have planned now, so on to the chapter! Now the fun starts!**

Claire shuffled her way through Quil and Embry's kitchen, pulling out random cans and spices from the different cupboards. She made her way over to the pot and added in the canned tomatoes and pepper flakes. Spinning around to toss the can in the trash, she ran straight into a wall. Or so she thought.

"Woah!" Huge palms grasped her elbows and steadied her. "Watch out, Claire-bear! There's no need to rush. You are going to wear away my floor with your running."

Claire rolled her eyes as she pressed her palms onto Quil's chest, lightly pushing him away and ducking under his arms and away from him. "I wasn't _running,_ thank you very much. You just happened to have a 'lurk moment' and creep up behind me." She stepped farther away from Quil and flashed him a tight smile before turning back to the stovetop. "Will Embry be home in time for dinner?"

"No, he's working tonight." Quil exhaled sharply at Claire's silent rebuff. She had been doing that a lot lately: moving away from him as soon as he came close. He didn't understand what was wrong. They had always hugged or leaned against each other on the sofa, but now she jerked away if he simply placed a hand on her shoulder or nudged her with his elbow. They still joked around and teased each other, but he felt that their relationship had come to a standstill. _She is still sixteen. We still have time. _He constantly reminded himself so, but he was still frustrated. He sometimes thought he had sensed a change in Claire, a newly found pulse of energy appearing between them. But now, he had started to doubt his own senses. She obviously was not at the point in their relationship where she could think of him like _that. _He could only hope that she would eventually reach that point. That's all that mattered.

Claire shut her eyes lightly and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the man behind her. Because that's what he was: a _man._ Not a teenage guy. Not a potential boyfriend. A _MAN._ She had to put whatever stupid, silly, idealistic, _impossible_ fancies she had about him to rest. She had already tried to catch his attention and it had not worked. So, she had to stop herself while she could. If she had to avoid all physical contact with Quil to keep those thoughts out of her head, then she would! She straightened her spine, grabbed the wooden spoon, and determinedly jammed it into the pot of spaghetti.

"Uh… is it almost ready?" Quil shuffled his feet around, impatiently looking at the simmering pasta sauce and smacking his lips.

"I'm just waiting for the pasta to boil. Do you want to check if it's ready with me?" Quil laughed and quickly scrubbed his hands at the sink. This part of the cooking process wasn't even necessary, but they continued to do it for the sake of tradition. They grinned at each other conspiringly and reached into the pot, each pulling out a long noodle. Nodding together, they both flung their noodles into the air, watching as the pasta stuck to the wall like glue.

"They both stuck. It's ready!" Claire smiled and reached towards the colander to strain the pasta. She was stopped by Quil's raised hand.

"I don't think that was a thorough enough investigation. We have to try again to be completely sure that the pasta is perfect." Claire giggled and watched Quil delicately pluck another noodle from the steaming pot.

"Observe." And with that, he swirled the noodle in an intricate pattern and flung it up to the ceiling. Claire laughed at his concentrated face and looked at the now-cold noodle hang from the ceiling.

"It stuck again! Can we eat now?!" Claire watched as Quil snuck another noodle out of the pot and turned to face her.

"I think I have to test one more surface before I can say that it's ready." Claire's eyes widened as she recognized the mischievous gleam in Quil's eyes.

"No, Quil! No! Stay back!" She laughed as she grabbed the colander and used it as a shield. "I just washed my hair! Nooo!" Quil snickered and moved closer to her, brandishing the noodles threateningly. The noodle nearly brushed up against Claire's head when:

"Quil! Look behind you! What _is_ that?" Quil laughed and skeptically raised his eyebrow at Claire.

"Come on, Claire, I won't really fall for tha-" He froze at Claire's wide-eyed stare and twisted around to face the window behind him.

"Shit.." he mumbled to himself. He was going to murder Embry.

"Quil" Claire exhaled breathlessly. "What _is_ that? Is that a… a bear? It's _huge!_" Claire squinted and moved closer to the window, trying to make out the giant shape moving in the darkness near the edge of the forest.

"Claire, get away from the window. The.. bear might.. uh.. try to eat you."

"You know, it doesn't really look like a bear eith― What are you doing? Quil, stop being silly! It can't get me through the wall!" Quil grasped Claire by the elbow and pulled her into the living room. He spun her around and pushed her down till she plopped onto the sofa with a small _oof!_

"Claire, listen to me," Quil said, kneeling down in front of her so that he was looking directly into her eyes. "I want you to sit on this couch and _stay here._ I will be right back, okay?"

"No_, not_ okay. Where exactly are you going? You can't go out there! There's something… big out there! Are you nuts?"

"It's a harmless little bear. I'll be right back."

"A _harmless little bear_? It was bigger than your car! Why are you doing this?" She grabbed a hold of his hands and pinned them to the couch on her sides.

"Claire, don't you trust me? I'm not going to do anything dangerous. I'm just going to peek outside and come right back in." Claire reluctantly surrendered his hands and sat frozen on the couch, shooting him a disbelieving look.

"Don't move." With that, he walked out of the room in two large strides. Claire listened for a moment and heard the front door open and snap shut. She sat anxiously on the couch, nervously bouncing her knee and tapping her fingers. Where was he? One minute passed… then two… three…

She heard the sound of the front door squeaking open and approaching footsteps and let out a shaky breath. She looked up to find Quil standing in front of her, the lines of his facial muscles tense and his mouth hardened in a grim line. Behind him, she saw a solemn Embry standing without a shirt and shoes, wearing only a pair of cutoff jean shorts. Her eyes met Quil's unyielding gaze.

"Come on, Claire. We are going to your Uncle Sam's house. Now."

**AN: Ooohh, cliffie just for you all! Now the good stuff starts! The question for this chapter was "What is that?" I hope you enjoyed it after my long delay in updates. Sorry about that: real life took over. Anyways, review and tell me if you like the direction that the story is taking. You guys know how much I love feedback. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Alright, folks, sorry for the late update. I have a lot of college applications to get through and so little time! Also, sorry for the mix up in chapters 9 and 10. Claire is still sixteen in this chapter, but she'll be turning seventeen very soon. On to the chapter!**

Claire sat quietly on the worn out sofa in Uncle Sam's living room. She exhaled with a huff, crossing her arms angrily and kicking at the pillow by her foot. A few hours had passed since she had last seen Quil. Where was he? He had literally picked her up, put her in his car, and driven over to Sam and Emily's house at a ridiculously dangerous speed. After shooting her a warning glance and telling her to stay put, he and Embry had quickly disappeared through the front door.

Claire huffed again and heard Emily shuffling around the kitchen and humming quietly to herself. She didn't even understand why she was listening to Quil: why couldn't she go home right now? What was keeping her here? As she stood up and moved to grab her coat to leave, the front door suddenly opened.

"Going somewhere?" Claire turned guiltily and looked up at Quil. He looked exhausted and she stared at the mysterious, raw scratch running down his arm. She heard Embry snickering from somewhere behind the towering figure in front of her. Drawing on her earlier frustration, she straightened her back and defiantly glared back at Quil.

"I'm going home." With that, she stepped forward and tried to move past Quil. A warm arm wrapped around her waist and halted her progress.

"You should stay a little longer, Claire. I can drive you home in a while." He pulled her away from the door and gently nudged her back towards the couch. Claire angrily gripped Quil's arm and whipped it away from her.

"I'm not going to stay. I don't have any idea what this is about. You just brought me here and disappeared. And then you expect me to sit down and do nothing?" She paused in her tirade and watched Sam and Embry sneak out of the room.

"It's not like that. If you would just listen―"

"Forget it. You can keep your damn secrets. I don't want to know anymore." She again tried to move around Quil.

"Stop it. Just relax and sit down and then we can talk."

"We don't have anything to talk about," she answered coldly even as she internally grappled with her nagging curiosity. Quil raised an eyebrow and propped a hand on his hip.

"Oh really? Then what's with all the questions you have been asking Emily for the past few weeks?" Claire blushed guiltily. He had caught her: her curiosity had gotten the best of her recently and she _needed_ to get some answers. She also knew that Quil did not, for some reason, trust her enough to be honest with her. So, she had gone to Emily and asked her all the questions she had given up asking Quil about. Apparently, Emily didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. Claire crossed her arms and frowned. Her stubbornness demanded that she deny everything:

"I don't know what you are talking about," she sniffed.

"Hmm, you don't?" he questioned sarcastically. "You don't want to know about my mysterious night-time job or about my unnaturally large size or about my lack of aging? Yo've never noticed the weird cuts and bruises that I come home with occasionally? You've never asked why my temperature runs at a chilly 107 degrees?" Claire blushed again but remained silent. She had to literally clench her jaw to prevent herself from begging for answers.

"I can answer your questions, Claire, if you would just sit down." His voice took on a more forceful tone and she dutifully sat down on the weathered sofa. She could not resist the temptation to discover the truth behind the questions that had plagued her mind lately. Quil sighed and settled into the cushion.

"You are almost seventeen now, Claire-bear." Claire's eyes widened at Quil's random observation. She merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow and stayed silent.

"You aren't a child anymore." Claire's frustration got the better of her:

"Thanks for finally noticing. Did you also notice that I'm a girl?" Quil chuckled at her quip. He had _definitely_ noticed that.

"What I mean to say is that I think you are ready to handle what I'm going to tell you." Claire's eyes widened at Quil's serious expression. He even seemed a little jittery and anxious. Was that… fear in his eyes? Quil nervously cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. He inhaled sharply and closed his mouth before springing to his feet and walking out of the room. Claire looked around bewildered until Quil reentered the room with Sam and Embry in tow. She heard the back door in the kitchen open and close, followed by the voices of Seth, Paul, and Jared. The three large men squished into the tiny living room and stood solemnly behind Quil, providing silent support. The air was heavy with tension. Claire turned her wide eyes to the large man crouching at her feet with his palms resting on her knees.

"Q-Quil? What's going on?"

His answering silence was not promising. Her mind raced as she tried to stay calm and not panic. She was not clueless: she had heard the rumors about Uncle Sam and the alleged gang that he led. She knew that Quil worked at night with the large men surrounding her. Could Quil really belong to a gang? He wouldn't do anything illegal, would he? She suddenly regretted all the prying questions she had been asking. All she had wanted to do was to confirm Quil's innocence. She never suspected that the rumors could actually be true!

Quil! In a gang! She shuddered at the thought: she was in the room with SIX possible gang members. She knew that they would never hurt her, but that did not prevent a little shiver of fear from crawling down her spine. She broke away from her thoughts as Quil cleared his throat again:

"There's something you need to know about us." Oh, God! It was true! They _were_ part of a gang!

"No! No, no, no, no, no." She sprang off the couch and stood with her palms facing outward, halting Quil's confession. "No! I don't want to know!" Quil's jaw dropped slightly and he stood from his crouch. He looked at Claire in disbelief.

"You don't want to know? You've been nagging Emily and me for answers for _months!_"

"Y-yea… but the less I know, the better! Just keep me out of whatever you are doing!" She clenched her fists and tried to calm her pounding heart. The other men in the room decided that now would be the right time to creep out. Suddenly, Quil and Claire were alone.

"Claire… I can't do this anymore. I've come too far to quit now, so you have to listen to what I have to say."

"No, it's alright, Quil. I really don't have to know anything."

"Yes, you do! This is important!" She shook her head. She couldn't bear to think of Quil as a criminal. It would destroy their friendship... relationship… whatever this was. Claire turned around and tried to escape the room.

"Claire!" She tried to suppress the shiver of delight as he grasped her hands and pulled her to his warm body, preventing her from leaving. He inclined his head and looked straight into her eyes.

"I'm a werewolf."

**Ooohhhh cliffie for you guys! This chapter's question was "What's going on?" BUT I would say that this chapter poses more than one of Claire's questions. I would also like to note that Quil is allowed to tell Claire about werewolves before her 18th birthday. She just can't know about imprinting before then. So, send me feedback about this chapter! It was the big reveal. I'll leave you in suspense about Claire's reaction until next chapter =P because I'm evil that way. You review and I'll update! Happy Election Day to all my American readers!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Sorry for the late delay, guys! Things should be back to normal by the end of next month. I'll be able to update a lot faster then. If I still have my sanity, that is. Read and review please! **

"I'm a werewolf."

Claire froze for a moment and let Quil's words flow through her mind. A werewolf? Was that some kind of secret gang name meant to inspire fear and awe in the masses? She suddenly felt the anger searing through her veins. Snatching her hands out of his, she narrowed her eyes and snarled, "Is that what you guys call yourselves?"

Quil's eyes widened at her furious glare. "Uhh… yes?" He had not expected much, but he certainly had not planned on _this_ reaction. Claire sucked in more air and felt her ears heat up.

"I… never thought you guys would be into this kind of stuff. I thought you were more than that." She stepped back and looked at him disgustedly. Quil continued to puzzle, his forehead furrowed. He had never seen such a ferocious glare on her face. She didn't seem as disbelieving as he had expected. Instead, she looked wearily resigned to the truth. And angry. Very angry.

"Well, we didn't really have a choice. It kind of just.. happened when we were teenagers." Claire exploded at his casual answer. Was he really trying to rationalize his criminal behavior?

"You always have a choice in _breaking the law_, Quil. Don't act as if someone forced your lifestyle on you." She moved to grab her coat and walk out of the door. Quil stood still and wide-eyed, staring at the spot where Claire had stood and trying to make sense of her venomous reply. Breaking the law? What was she talking about? He suddenly snapped back to the present and heard Claire striding to the door behind him. He spun around and grabbed her arm.

"Wait… where are you going?" Claire shrugged his arm off and stared blankly at the door in front of her.

"I'm leaving. I don't want to see you right now, so leave me alone." With that, she unbolted the door and stepped out on to the porch. Quil felt his own frustration start to boil. Why was she acting so immaturely? He strode forward and grasped her shoulder.

"Don't!" she yelled, digging her nails into his hand. "Don't you dare, Quil Ateara!" He released her immediately, as if burned by a hot coal. He stared at her in shock. She had never rejected his touch so bluntly before. Squelching the hurt he felt, he decided to approach her differently.

"Claire, you are overreacting." He stepped back from her and spoke levelly, trying to calm her down.

"_I'm_ overreacting? _I'm_ overreacting? You've been lying to me my entire life!" Quil felt horrified at the tears he saw gathering in her eyes. Was she that upset with the idea? Well, he knew she would be upset. It's not every day that you find out that your best friend is less than human. A werewolf, in fact. But for so long, he had assumed that she would somewhat accept him once she learned the truth. He had never really thought about her completely rejecting him. Now, the possibility of her permanent rejection loomed ominously in front of him. Could he survive it?

"I… I thought you were a _mechanic!_" she continued to rant, mentally scolding herself for her naivete. Quil decided to interject:

"I _am_ a mechanic, and I _have not_ broken any laws that I know of." Quil relaxed as he saw Claire deflate slightly.

"You haven't?"

"No." He raised an eyebrow at her and set his lips in a firm line. Did she think he was some sort of… werewolf criminal?

"Well… what kind of gang are you in then?" Claire's curiosity quickly took the place of her anger now that she realized that Quil hadn't committed any felonies.

"Well, geez, Claire. I wouldn't call us a gang… We're more of a pack." Quil had begun to realize Claire's misunderstanding of the situation and didn't know whether to laugh or scold her. The word "pack" had reminded Claire of Quil's confusing admission: he had called himself a werewolf. What did that mean?

"A pack?"

"Yes."

"Of… werewolves?"

"Yes."

"Werewolf as in half-man, half-wolf?" Quil rolled his eyes.

"_Yes_, Claire."

Claire shook her head and looked at him skeptically. "Do you think this is a joke, Quil?"

"What? No!" he protested vehemently. "I'm being serious right now."

"Yeah," she agreed stoically.

"Really, Claire."

"Yeah."

"Stop looking at me like that! I'm not messing with you right now."

"Uh huh. Of course not." She hiked her bag onto her shoulder and walked off the porch steps, heading in the direction of her home. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her waist as her feet left the ground. Dropping her bag with a shriek, she flopped onto a large shoulder and was unceremoniously carried into the woods outside of Sam's house.

"Quil? Quil! Put me down! What are you _doing?!" _She pounded on his back with all her might but he didn't even flinch. She couldn't kick her legs because he had wrapped his other arms around them, pinning them to his chest.

"Have you lost your ever-lovin' mind? We can't go into the woods now! It's pitch black!" Quil did not even acknowledge her protests, silently staring ahead and walking purposefully into the brush. Claire suddenly felt genuine fear slither down her back. Had she pushed him too far? What was he going to do?

Suddenly, Quil stopped walking and plopped her at the base of a tall tree. She guessed they were a good 100 yards from the house. Her heart was pounding in terror. What was wrong with him? He looked at her with steely determination.

"Q-Quil?" she sniffled. "Quil, please stop this. I'm really scared." Quil instantly felt regret. In his effort to show her the truth, he had terrified her. He kneeled down in front of her, gently palming her cheeks and resting his forehead against hers. She inhaled in relief as she spotted a glimpse of _her_ Quil looking back.

"Don't be afraid, Claire-bear. You know I won't let anything bad happen to you. I need you to just bear with me for five minutes, alright? I have to show you that I'm telling the truth." She didn't know what exactly he wanted to show her, but she would let him. She nodded at him quietly and kept still as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Just wait right here, ok? I'll be right back. Don't be afraid." He turned and disappeared behind some large trees in front of her. She listened for a minute, feeling panic start to creep up. Where did he go? Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to a large shape moving between the trees in front of her. She squinted her eyes and tried to see through the dim moonlight.

"Quil?"

The black mass moved closer, and Claire inhaled sharply in fear. What was it? It was huge… and it walked on four legs. Okay, so it wasn't human. She felt lightheaded as the shadow creeped nearer. The thing moved into some rays of moonlight and Claire gasped. A giant wolf!

She froze in terror as the wolf moved closer. She remembered reading something about… wild animals attacking only if provoked. She decided to be as unobtrusive and unthreatening as possible, hoping it would lose interest in her and go away. It stopped two feet away from her, and she shut her eyes in fear. Her muscles seized up as she felt the wolf step closer. And closer.

She gasped as she suddenly felt a wet nuzzle against her cheek. Oh god, this was it. It was going to bite a chunk out of her now. Had it gotten Quil already? He had not reappeared yet. She could do nothing but turn her head away and wait for its attack.

Suddenly, she felt a weight on her lap as a giant paw plopped lightly onto her thighs. Gathering her courage, she opened her eyes and stared at the wolf next to her in disbelief. Her eyes widened as she found familiar bronze eyes staring back at her from the wolf's body.

"Q-Quil?"

The wolf barked happily and licked her neck, rubbing her cheek with his snout.

**AN: There you have it, guys! Sorry for the late delay, but I hope the chapter was worth it. The question was "Do you think this is a joke?" I think this was my favorite chapter so far =) I'm proud of it. Anyways, REVIEW and tell me what you thought: Liked it? Hated it? Want me to die a slow and tragic death involving mice and a bucket? Feel free to share =P**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Alright guys, please don't kill me. I know I disappeared for over a month but I'm back now. Between final exams, the hectic holiday season, and a million and one college apps, I simply did not have the time to write. I have about 3 out-of-town trips in January so I'll try to keep updating. Due to popular demand, I will also be writing the questions before the chapter. Also, don't be confused at my new penname (LittleBuddha). Alright, I think that's it… Here it is!**

**QUESTION: Why wouldn't I want to see you?**

She had been avoiding Quil, and she wasn't exactly sure why.

Claire sighed and put on her jacket, mentally shaking her head. She had simply hid in her bedroom for three days, swearing to reject any calls or visitors (especially a certain tall, dark, and handsome _someone) _but secretly feeling disappointed when none came. She slept little, instead spending her nights reminiscing about her childhood memories with Quil. How long had she known him, and she had remained completely clueless that he was only half human!

Her mind went back to night three days ago, when she had discovered the truth about her best friend. After she had recognized Quil in his wolf form, he had shifted back to his human self and explained about werewolves in general: the Quileute legends, his own transformation, his duty as a protector of the reservation and a member of the pack. He had not really mentioned _why_ he had kept it a secret from her for so long, only mentioning that it was a necessary precaution. They had parted on friendly terms, but confusion and hurt had slowly crept into her mind that night as she lay in bed.

She felt like an idiot. She had been completely oblivious of a major part of Quil's life, and even felt a sting of embarrassment for her feelings; she had developed more-than-platonic love for him, she had trusted him with every thought in her head, she had shared her joy and her pain with him, and yet she felt as if she was just meeting the real Quil. She also felt extremely jealous of those who had known Quil's secret: the other members of the pack, maybe other close family and friends. She knew her jealousy was immature and unwarranted, but she could not help feeling as if those people knew Quil better than she did.

Not to mention, she couldn't help the worried niggle in the back of her mind that wondered if a simple human like her could entice a powerful werewolf.

Heaving another great sigh and returning to the present, Claire slipped on her heavy boots and walked out of the front door. She grabbed the umbrella resting neatly against the doorway and morosely looked at the falling drops. She did not like the idea taking a walk in the rain, but she just had to get out of the house. She idly wondered what Quil was doing right now.

"Claire."

She froze and licked her dry lips, keeping her eyes fastened on the wall in front of her. Her body froze for a moment before she turned to look at the man perched on the porch steps behind her.

"Wow, Claire. You look… tired." She blinked twice and flashed him a tight smile.

"You look tired, too." _And still perfect. _She paused, not sure what to say. Should she apologize for temporarily turning into a hermit?

"I.. haven't seen you in a few days," Quil began tentatively. He looked down at the floor and rubbed at the wood with the toe of his shoe. "Are… are you okay?" He looked up at her nervously.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she squeaked. She cleared her throat. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah" he mumbled. "I'm fine too."

"Oh, okay. Good." Claire could feel the blood flame in her ears. This was a fiasco. She had to get out of there before the awkwardness killed her. She was about to make up an excuse about having an appointment somewhere, but Quil's soft voice interrupted her frantic thoughts.

"You don't want to see me here, do you?" he sighed to himself. Her eyes widened and she stared up at him in shock. He wasn't looking at her at all, instead standing with his hands in his pockets and his face turned towards the rain. His forehead was furrowed and his mouth was twisted in a grimace. She felt her chest twist as she took in his pained expression.

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" she asked gently, her eyes prompting his to look at her.

"Because of.. you know.. what I told you the other day." He angled his gaze towards a spot above her left shoulder. She felt her chest swell at his endearing nervousness. To be honest, the idea of werewolf Quil did not really bother her. It had obviously been hard to accept at first, but her mind had eventually processed the idea. He was still Quil, just with some new facets to his personality. No, she had not minded the werewolf part; she had minded the _concealment_ of it all.

"I'm not going to lie, Quil. I'm not exactly happy with how long you kept me in the dark. I don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner." He flinched and looked towards the rain again, his hands fisted in his pockets.

"And I feel kind of dumb. How could I not realize that my best friend isn't even human?" She smiled at her pitiful attempt at humor before taking in his pitiful expression.

"But," she continued, inhaling deeply and building up her nerve. "I'm glad you came to see me. I missed you." His head immediately shot up and his gaze met hers.

"I missed you, too" he breathed. His eyes smoldered for a second before he quickly schooled his expression into his trademark grin. Claire internally melted: it was moments like these that she could pretend that he had more-than-platonic feelings too. But then the brotherly Quil would return and her hopes would be squashed.

"So… everything is okay?"he asked as he slowly stepped nearer to her and took the umbrella from her hands.

"Erm… Everything with _me_ is okay. _You_ are still kind of not human, though. Can't really help you there, sorry." She giggled at his playfully indignant expression.

"Pfftt. Who wants to be a measly human?" He stood tall and subtly puffed out his chest. "You wish you were as cool as I am!"

"Mmmm. Four legs and fur. Where do I sign up?" she asked casually.

He huffed. "I'll have you know that there are a lot of perks to―"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." She laughed and grabbed her umbrella back from him, spinning around to face the porch steps and begin her walk. She was stopped by a large, too-warm hand on her shoulder. She spun around to find Quil looking at her intently.

"So… we're really okay now?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "We're okay."

Quil's face lit up with a smile. He kissed her cheek lightly before unexpectedly flipping her over his shoulder and striding off into the rain, peals of laughter and playful squeals ringing through the air.

**Liked it? Hated it? Please review! I wanted this chapter to have a more light-hearted tone after the heavy preceding chapter so… let me know what you thought! Later!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Alright guys! Here's the update, as promised. I leave town tonight for a week so I'll update again once I get back! Also, Pride and Prejudice spoilers in this chapter. You'll see why =P **

Claire snuggled into the couch in Quil's living room, waiting for her half-human to come back from the kitchen. Since it was a very stormy Friday night, the pair had decided to stay at home and watch a movie. It was Claire's turn to pick the movie, and she had decided on one of her favorite romances: Pride and Prejudice. Having seen it dozens of times, Claire wanted Quil to share in her love of the story. Though Quil had grumbled about her choice and hid behind his macho façade, Claire knew that he was sensitive enough to at least appreciate the film. She sighed to herself as she thought about Elizabeth and Darcy's kiss at the end of the movie, her mind automatically replacing the two lovers with her and Quil. She could see them now, their heads poised as their faces moved closer together until―

"Popcorn's ready!" Claire's train of thought screeched to a halt as Quil's large body squeezed through the doorway. Setting a soda down in front of Claire, he plopped down next to her and offered her the popcorn bowl. Smiling and shaking her head no, she curled her legs under her and slightly leaned into Quil.

"Let the chick flick torture begin. You ready?" She nodded and he pressed the play button on the remote control, watching as the screen flickered on and the opening credits began. The pair watched the movie in silence, Quil occasionally asking a question about the characters or laughing at the pitiful Mr. Collins. Eventually, they reached the scene of Mr. Darcy's first unexpected proposal to Elizabeth. Claire sighed at his hasty, nervous speech and enjoyed the intense chemistry between the couple. As Elizabeth began her contemptuous refusal, Claire looked over at Quil. His face had gone slack and his eyes grew wider and wider as Elizabeth's tirade continued. After Mr. Darcy had stalked off camera, Quil grabbed the remote control and hit the pause button.

"I thought you said this was a romance?" Claire giggled at Quil's disappointed expression: he was much more interested in the movie than he would ever admit.

"Don't worry," she said. "Just keep watching. It all works out in the end."

"How could it possibly work out after everything they just said to each other? She just went off on him without giving him a chance. He just _proposed!_" Quil huffed and crossed his arms.

"Relax! Just press the play button and find out how it ends!" She reached over his chest to the table on his left side, grabbing the remote control and starting the movie again.

Soon after, Claire was smiling happily at the ending scene as she cuddled under Quil's warm arm. He looked down at her affectionately, an upwards tilt to his lips. She guessed that even he was susceptible to watching love grow on screen. He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back, and she tried not to stare at the two inches of his abs revealed from his shirt pulling up. She snapped out of her heated thoughts as he started talking about the movie.

"It wasn't bad," he conceded. "I was worried when Elizabeth first rejected him though. That was a nasty blow."

"Yeah. Her reaction always bothered me a little. She couldn't have been _that_ surprised that he was interested in her!" Claire folded her arms and settled further into the couch.

"What do you mean?" Quil asked in surprise. "How would she have known what he was feeling?"

"Well," Claire began. "The signs were there: he was always gazing at her or arguing with her or something. He only danced with her and 'coincidentally' visited his aunt's house while she was there."

Quil snickered. "So she is supposed to know that he loves her because of how he argues with her? How does that make sense?"

"Maybe 'argue' isn't the right word. 'Banter' is more like it. The chemistry and passion were definitely there. The way he _looked_ at her said everything. She just didn't pick up on the signals."

"I don't agree with that. He was purposely hiding his feelings for her. There weren't any solid signs from him. It's very possible to hide that kind of love."

"I don't think so. It's either there, or it's not. If someone doesn't feel that way about you, you can pretty much tell. And the opposite is true: you know when someone is into you." Claire felt her heart sinking as she thought about what she had said. How could someone fail to notice another in love with them? She felt saddened at her realization that Quil obviously would never think of her in a romantic way. Sometimes when he would look at her a certain way, she thought he could love her. Frankly, nothing was really clear. Her cheerful mood from the movie vanished and her heart sunk. She was hopeless.

"He had to pretend that he didn't love her. He thought he had a duty to his family."

"Do you think duty could really stifle love?"

Quil got a strange look in his eye as he answered, "Yes. Undoubtedly, for a little while at least. I think the love would come out eventually."

"Ah, I see," Claire blushed, impressed at this romantic side to Quil. "I didn't know you were such a sap," she teased.

"I'm not a sap," Quil said seriously, looking at her intently. "I'm only speaking from what I know."

Claire puzzled at the serious turn the conversation had taken. "I am, too. Maybe we should just agree to disagree."

"Sure. Let's just say that _some people_ need more obvious signals than others." Claire's eyebrows rose at Quil's emphasis of "some people": who was he referring to exactly? He smirked and stuck his hand out.

"Agreed." She grabbed his hand and giggled as he gave her hand a businesslike shake. Feeling playful, Quil pulled Claire towards him. Caught off guard, she clumsily fell across his lap with her hand clutched to his chest. She breathed heavily at the minor fright she had experienced and looked up at Quil. Her eyes widened as she realized that their faces were only breaths apart. Her eyes darted to his lips before returning to look at his eyes. He was looking at her in a way that made her stomach tingle.

Her heart started to pound as she saw Quil lean forward, his eyes watching hers intently for a reaction. When she didn't back away, he brushed his lips gently against hers, wrapping one arm around her back and cradling her cheek with the other. Claire pulled away slightly and looked at Quil, not sure if she was awake or dreaming. Ignoring the urge to pinch herself, she returned her lips to his and smiled at the tiny growl he made as she pulled him even closer. She hoped that this was Quil's way of giving her a more obvious signal.

**AN: There you have it, folks! The first kiss (finally). I hope you guys enjoyed the chappie! The question for this one was "Do you think duty could really stifle love?" I've returned to putting the questions at the end of the chapter. I didn't like them at the beginning. Anyways, please REVIEW and tell me what you thought! Liked it? Hated it? Want to kill me with a spatula? Please share!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Sorry for the huge delay, guys. I have two words for you: computer crash. Now I'm back with a new laptop (3 weeks later) and have rewritten everything that was lost. I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks for your patience.**

Claire bounced down the street, gazing happily at everything around her. The air was crisp, the sun was setting in vivid pinks and oranges, prom was in five days, and Quil had agreed to be her date! Quil, even with his superhuman strength and perfect coordination as a wolf, could not dance well. He had begged her to take another guy friend and save him the torture of dancing in public, but Claire had pouted and gazed at him with large, pitiful eyes. He had heaved a large sigh and agreed to go. She smiled at the memory: she had not realized the power she held over Quil until recently. He would do a lot to make her happy, and she swore not to abuse her hold over him. She wondered if he knew that he held just as much sway over her.

She had tentatively asked him three days ago (the day after their first kiss!) and had not seen him since. She knew that he patrolled the rez during the day, but that did not explain his absence in the evenings for the past couple of days. She thought back to the last time she had seen him: Friday three days previously. Though he did not kiss her again, he held her to his side and lightly ran his hand down her arm for the rest of the night. She did not mind for the time being. She didn't really want to intrude in his personal space, so she decided that he should set the pace for their relationship (as long as a few kisses were included).

She assumed that he kept his distance because he was still adjusting to their changed relationship, but she had woken up this morning worried. They had barely talked besides a few text messages throughout the day and a short good-night call before bed, and she decided stop by his house tonight on her way back from art class. She knew he wouldn't mind: she was always popping in at random times during the day. Besides, she had a new painting to show him. She had been working on it for weeks and finally felt satisfied at her work: a wolf standing on the edge of the cliffs at twilight, looking into the gleaming ocean. It was no coincidence that the wolf had the same light brown eyes as a certain werewolf she knew.

As she walked, she smiled at the light drizzle that started to fall. She pulled up her hood and held her art portfolio close to her body, knowing that the rain would soon fall harder. After a few minutes of walking, she was standing at Quil's front door. She raised her hand to knock but stopped and pressed her ear to the door: did she hear… a woman's voice? Holding her breath and keeping quiet, she felt her chest clench at the giggling coming from within. Who _was _that? Placing her art portfolio on the floor in front of the door, she sneaked around the house until she reached the living room's window. She crouched below the window to remain hidden and slowly peeked into the window. She stopped breathing.

Quil stood in middle of the living room, holding a shorter brunette woman in his arms. They twirled slowly to the soft music playing, moving their feet in sync. Quil's hands rested lightly on the young woman's hips and her arms were draped over his shoulders. Claire's eyes jealously scanned the woman's curvaceous figure and beautiful tan face. She felt blood rushing to her ears as angry tears filled her eyes. So _this_ is where Quil had been for the past few days: dancing intimately with a woman who was not her. Holding her to him, cradling her in his arms, swaying gently…

Claire watched the couple dancing for a few moments before Quil's laugh interrupted her glaring. She watched his eyes crinkle and his smile widen as he chuckled to the woman in front of him. Feeling another rush of anger, she flung herself away from the window. She had seen enough.

Trying to stifle the urge to enter the house and vehemently demand an explanation, Claire straightened and strode away from Quil's home. As she walked, images flashed across her mind's eye: Quil holding her close, laughing with her, ruffling her hair. Him talking about "signals" and moving closer, brushing her lips with his―

The clouds erupted and poured forth their torrents of water. Claire ran.

____________________________________________________________________

Claire sprawled on her bed, looking dejectedly up at her ceiling. It was past midnight and she still could not sleep. She swallowed thickly as she thought of what she had seen at Quil's house earlier. Whatever she had felt in that moment could not compare to her emotions now. She felt betrayed, idiotic, naïve, used, disappointed, saddened…

And mad. The quote "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" came to mind. "Fury" was putting it lightly. Claire's anger had reached supernova proportions and she wondered if her hair could burst into flame from pure emotion. She wanted to scream at Quil, claw at his chest until she ripped out his heart and stomped on it, grinding it into the floor with her heel. She wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her.

Still, the rational part occasionally whispered at the back of Claire's mind. In reality, Claire and Quil were not dating. Yes, they had kissed, but he had made no promises. It was perfectly natural for Quil to pursue a beautiful woman his age. Claire pushed these rationalizations away: they _had_ made a promise to each other, spoken or not. Quil had betrayed her and she felt her chest clench at the thought.

She had returned to her house earlier, out of breath and soaked to the skin. She immediately dragged herself upstairs for a shower. Quil had called at 10 o'clock to say good night as he always did, but she did not pick up her phone. She also ignored his increasingly worried texts. He could busy himself with that brunette hussy for all she cared. She bit her lip to stop the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. If Quil wanted to dance with that woman, it was not her business. So what if he had protested against dancing with Claire at her prom but happily danced with the mystery woman? She shut her eyes and inhaled.

Suddenly, Claire heard shuffling and a loud _thump! _at the foot of her open window. Sitting up, she stared in shock at the body sprawled inelegantly on her floor.

Quil slowly raised his eyes to look at a perfectly safe Claire, cursing his paranoia and over-protectiveness that forced him to check up on her when she had not answered his customary call. He was surprised at the hostility she found in her gaze.

"Get out." Quil dumbly stared at Claire. Had she just told him to―?

"Get. Out. Now." she ground out again. She barely kept her temper in check, forcing herself to not throw hysterical accusations at him.

"W-what? Claire, is something wrong? I found your art portfolio on my porch earlier and―"

"Nothing is wrong," she hissed, "besides the fact that you are _still in my bedroom._ Didn't you hear me?" Quil almost rushed back out the window at her deadpan command. He was confused at the anger and disgust in her glare. What on earth was going on?!

"I can see something is bothering you. Did something happen? I'm sorry I didn't answer the door earlier… I must not have heard you knock or something."

"Forget about it. I'm sure you had your hands full." Claire almost spat at the shy blush that spread over Quil's face when she mentioned his hands being full. How dare he come over after spending the evening canoodling with some woman?

"Yeah, I was.. busy today."

"I'm sure you were," Claire snarled. "Now go away." She laid back down and rolled over until her back was facing Quil, effectively dismissing him from her sight and hiding her tears from him. The room remained silent for a few minutes until Claire felt her bed dip as Quil sat down next to her. Oh, God, wouldn't he leave her in peace?

"Claire?" He rested his warm palm on her bare shoulder. "Claire, look at me. What is wrong?" She struggled against his strength as he tried to press her shoulder back until she faced him. He eventually succeeded in overpowering her, flipping her over and staring in shock at the tears sliding down her round cheeks. Claire started to cry in earnest as she caught sight of him.

"Who is she, Quil?" she cried.

He continued to stare at her with wide eyes. "Who is _who_?!" he asked, baffled.

"That.. that woman," she said vaguely. "At your house today. The brunette." Again he flushed red with embarrassment.

"Carla? She's… just a friend." Claire sat up and looked at him impatiently.

"Stop lying, Quil. I _saw_ you two today."

"You did?" He twiddled his thumbs bashfully.

"Do you have any idea what an assh-"

"What? Claire, I was going to _surprise_ you!"

"Oh, don't worry," she shot back. "I was definitely surprised." Bewildered, he looked at her as if she was speaking to him in French.

"Then… why do you look like you want to maim me? I thought you would appreciate the surprise." She sucked in a mouthful of air in indignation. Was he _seriously asking her this question?!_

"You… must be joking. How happy would you be if you found me canoodling with some guy?"

"Canoodling?! Claire, did you think we were…" he stopped and stared at her dumbly. He suddenly burst out with, "Claire! What exactly do you think we were doing?" Claire flushed and looked away, biting her lip again to suppress more tears. He moved closer to her until his hands were placed at her sides, effectively trapping her in the bed. With one look at Claire's pained face, he knew exactly what she had been thinking.

"Claire…" he reached for her hand and felt his heart clench as she flinched away from his touch. He suddenly reached for his wallet, pulling out a small card and holding it up to her. Too curious for her own good, she took the card from his grasp (making sure not to touch his skin in the process) and read the business card: CARLA LOPEZ, DANCE TEACHER.

She looked up at Quil, confused. Dance teacher?

"I.. I wanted to surprise you on prom. I know how much you want to dance and figured I had better get over my clumsiness…" He swallowed nervously and avoided her eyes. Claire looked up at Quil in horror.

"You mean you and her aren't…?"

"No." She felt all anger drain from her body as a pervading sense of shame overtook her.

"I-I'm sorry, Quil. I don't know what else to say." She shut her eyes to hide from the man perched above her body.

"Claire." She turned her head to the side at his whisper. "Claire, it's okay. I'm not angry at you. I can't imagine what you've been feeling these past few hours." A final tear leaked out at his kindness: here she had been accusing him of cheating and he was still concerned about how she was feeling!

"I… I wouldn't do that to you, Claire. I thought you knew that."

"I don't know what I was thinking! I just saw you two together… and we hadn't really made any promises or anything so… I just assumed―"

"You shouldn't have jumped to such a crazy conclusion. I'm sorry if I was unclear about my intentions for us, Claire. I… think we have something special here. As long as we have something going, I won't be looking for anyone else." He paused. "And neither will you. You are stuck with me for now." He wagged his finger at her seriously and she giggled softly.

"Alright," she agreed with a smile. Quil returned her smile and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Sliding his lips across her skin, he pressed his lips to her eyelids and then kissed away her tears. He pulled away from her for a moment, gazing softly at her eyes. She sighed and slid her eyes closed as he brought their lips together, lightly grazing her lips with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and didn't release him for quite some time.

**AN: There you have it, folks! I made the chapter extra-long to make up for the really long wait. The question for this chapter was "Who is she?" Please REVIEW and let me know what you thought! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Erm, please.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Hi, everyone. I'm sorry for the late delay. I can't even begin to tell you what March was like, so I'm not going to bother trying. I hope you guys aren't too angry with me =( Thanks for all the reviewers who reminded/threatened me to update *points finger at Chi Cullen*Heehee. You guys make my day. Anyways, here's prom! PS You can find a picture of Claire's prom dress in my profile. It's beautiful! Enjoy!**

Claire twirled slowly in her bedroom, checking her curled hair in the mirror and smoothing out the creases in her dress. The navy-gold pleated skirt fell to the floor gracefully and the gold lined top accentuated her full chest. She nervously checked her dark eyeliner and sparkling eye shadow, knowing that Quil appreciated natural looking makeup. She smiled as she looked at her reflection: Quil wouldn't be able to resist! She heard the front door open downstairs and idly listened to the murmuring of Quil's male voice talking gently with her mother. She took a deep breath and grabbed her burnished gold clutch, stuffing her cell phone and lip gloss into the minute purse. She opened her door and walked carefully down the stairs.

Her descent was met with a heavy silence. She looked up questioningly as she reached the fourth stair from the bottom, meeting the stunned faces of her mother and Quil. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "What?"

Claire's mother rushed forward in teary bliss, enveloping her grown daughter in her arms and sniffling at how beautiful she was. She quickly pushed Claire to Quil's side, coaxing them into a few cheesy poses for pictures. Before Claire could take a breath, her mother had wished her a good night and shoved the couple out on the porch.

"Well…" Claire began slowly. "That was… fun." She looked up at Quil, surprised to realize that he had not spoken a word to her yet. His face was tilted away from her, his eyes closed and mouth tense as he seemed to be in pain.

"Quil? Are you okay?" Claire inhaled quickly as Quil's eyes snapped open, his gaze filled with heat and _want_. She nearly took a step back as his arms shot out quickly, pulling her against his warm body and burying his head in her collarbone.

"Claire," Quil whispered against her neck, inhaling her perfume and pulling her tighter. "You look…" His muffled description fell into silence as she lifted her arms to slide over his shoulders and taut back, simply holding him to her.

"Thanks," she laughed, pulling away from him. "You look very handsome." She rested her hand lightly on the boutonniere pinned to his tuxedo, smoothing her hands over the sides of his suit. She felt a sense of warm feminine pleasure enter the pit of her stomach as she surveyed the man in front of her.

How could she ever let him wear casual clothing again? Quil was wearing a perfectly tailored tux with a crisp white shirt underneath. He had gone with a simple black tie that only accentuated his own natural beauty. His tan skin and striking bone structure spoke for themselves; no need for a colorful tux to bring attention to _that._

She was brought back to attention by Quil gently lacing his fingers with hers and leading her to his car. He smoothly opened the passenger door, handing her in and stroking her fingers before gently releasing her hand. She watched him circle the front of his door and smiled.  
_________________________________________________

The prom had been a hit so far. Claire and Quil had yet to get off the dance floor, the DJ switching between upbeat tunes, slow songs, and even some oldies. Claire giggled as Quil did a terrible four step that resembled a seizure of some kind. The dance tune slowly faded away and a fast-paced rap song started playing. Quil's eyes widened as he saw the dance floor start to bump and grind to the heavy beat.

"They call that _dancing?_" he asked incredulously. "That looks like… like…" Claire flushed in embarrassment as she realized what Quil was trying to say. Suddenly, her mind was filled with images of her and Quil moving so close together and her blush spread down to her neck. As if reading her mind, Quil smirked rakishly and asked, "Would you like to get some air?" Claire nodded mutely and allowed him to lead her to the outside patio.

She took a deep breath and looked at her surroundings. The plush greenery looked full and romantic in the moonlight, and thousands of fairy lights lay twinkling on the walls and bushes. The scent of blooming jasmine wafted through the crisp air, and a bright full moon lit the sky. The patio was empty, most teens having moved inside when the popular rap tune had come on. Claire sighed in contentment as the cool breeze fanned her slightly sweaty skin. She waited for her blush to fade, resting her hands on the patio railing and looking out idly at the garden.

Claire froze as she felt Quil's warmth envelop her back, his fingers intertwining with hers on the railing and resting there gently. She unconsciously leaned into his embrace, grateful for his presence even though she felt slightly warm already. She snapped out of her blissful daze as a question suddenly entered her mind.

"What was your prom like?"

"I never went to my prom," he said absentmindedly. "I phased into a werewolf soon after I entered high school, and after that it seemed like I didn't have time for the normal things that teens do." He paused. "Maybe it was for the better. I would have probably been on the lookout for leeches all night instead of entertaining my date." He chuckled at the thought.

"I'm sorry you missed out on so much," she said. "But you seem to be doing a good job entertaining me." Claire smiled, turning her head to look up at him. He grinned sweetly and pecked her on her cheek, tightening his hold on her slightly. They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"Do you regret it?" Claire asked suddenly. "Do you resent missing out on so much?" Quil stepped away from Claire, moving towards a nearby chair. He sunk down onto the cushion, distractedly pulling Claire down onto his lap so that she rested sideways against him. His brow furrowed and he softly stroked her arm.

"To be quite honest," he began. "I don't regret a thing."

"Really? That surprises me. It must have been very hard for you to grow up so quickly."

"Oh, it was," he agreed. "I was very angry at first. I thought it was a sort of punishment. But with time I started to realize what an honor and blessing it was. I gained a new family, new powers, new awareness… a sexy fur coat..." Claire giggled.

"So… you didn't mind having to work so hard? Or all the times you were hurt for the sake of others who didn't even know that you protected them with your life?"

Quil chuckled, nuzzling Claire's cheek in front of him. "Why so many questions, Claire bear?"

"I'm just curious. I don't really know much about what your life was like before I met you." She shut her mouth against the urge to declare that she wanted to know everything about him. Instead, she nudged him in the stomach with her elbow and said, "You didn't answer my question."

Quil paused again, inhaling deeply and flexing his shoulders. "What was it again? If I didn't mind laying my life down for others who didn't even know what I was doing?" Claire nodded. "Well… No. The thought hadn't really occurred to me. I have a duty to our people, to the rez, to those I love." His gaze turned distant and she knew that he was lost in his memory.

"Sounds like a thankless job if you asked me," Claire said. "No one ever says thank you for what you do because no one is even aware of the danger out there!" Quil broke out of his thought and chuckled at Claire's begrudging statement. He shifted her closer to his chest and began again.

"Don't worry, Claire-bear," he said cheerily. "The Powers That Be haven't abandoned me to this thankless job." His voice became wistful and he said, "They'll reward me somehow. I know that everything I've done, everything that I've sacrificed, will be repaid with happiness beyond what I can imagine." Claire was startled by the certainty in Quil's voice.

"You think 'They' will reward you?" Quil's gaze met hers and he stared into her eyes, gently brushing a lock of hair from her forehead.

"They already have," he said simply. "And I hope there's more to come. Soon." Claire blushed as his gaze slowly caressed her face and body. Her eyes slid shut as his hand slowly rose to cup her cheek, cradling her head in his warm palm. Quil paused to bury his face in her hair, inhaling slowly and brushing his lips at the crook of her neck. She sighed as he lightly kissed along her jaw line, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He twined his hands in the back of her hair, pulling her head back and staring down at her. Claire's eyes fluttered closed as his lips pressed firmly to hers, stroking and gently nipping at her mouth.

**AN: I hope you liked the chappie! Slightly longer than my others. I really liked how it turned out: I didn't want to focus too much on the actual dancing/drinking/partying of prom… I wanted it to be a Big Moment for them. The kisses are getting more frequent ;) You know what that means!**

**Anywho, there were a few questions for this chapter: What was your prom like? Do you regret it? Do you resent missing out on so much? Big questions that give us insight into who Quil is and where he has been. Anyways, your authoress has had a crappy month so PLEASE review! I love you all and I won't leave you waiting so long for the next chapter. Review!!!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed… except for Quil. He might need some therapy by the time I'm finished with him!**

**AN: Don't throw tomatoes at me! I know this update is pathetically late… Just read and review and forgive me! Also, I'm wrapping up the story and wanted to welcome any suggestions of possible questions you would like me to write about… Give me your ideas!**

The figure rested lightly on her back with her eyes closed lightly in between the trees of the dense forest. She inhaled deeply, her hands idly stroking the grass underneath her. She smiled at the sunshine dancing against her lids. Suddenly, she caught the sound of four paws hitting the ground solidly and quickly approaching her. Even when the creature stopped and stood next to her silently, she still did not stir.

Claire suddenly had to stifle maniacal giggles as she heard Quil grunt as he phased back into his human form. Though her eyes remained closed, she could clearly hear the large man search the brush for something.

"God damn it, Claire! You had better keep your eyes closed!" he grumbled. "Where did you put my shorts?" Claire stretched lazily like a cat and hummed in her throat.

"What shorts?" she asked innocently.

"The shorts that I asked you to watch while I checked the area for leeches." She could hear him trying to keep from laughing at her antics.

She hummed again before answering, "Oh, I don't know. Did you check near the picnic basket?"

"Yes!" he whined. "I'm naked in a foreeesstt!" At his pitiful wails, Claire finally cracked.

"Oh, you're such a drama queen!" she laughed. "It's in the picnic basket!"

"Thank you," he said primly. She heard the ruffle of clothing as Quil slid on his shorts. "Okay, you can look now."

"Hmph, it's no fun _now_," she huffed. She rolled her body and faced away from Quil, her eyes still shut.

"Why, Claire!" he exclaimed in a terrible southern drawl. "Were you trying to get to my virtue by stealin' my pants? Dearie me!"

"Meh," she grunted noncommittally. "I'm sure there's nothing too impressive for me to see anyways." She held her breath and tried to keep her laughter at bay. She almost opened her eyes as she felt Quil lay down next to her, their bodies facing each other.

"Why, Claire," he said huskily in her ear. "I think we both know that's not true." Claire shivered at the tension suddenly crackling between them. She opened her eyes to find Quil looking at her intently, the sun gleaming down on his tan body. He hadn't bothered putting his shirt back on. She had to stifle a groan and twist her hands together to keep from touching.

Quil smirked as her eyes finally met his, leaning forward to press his lips to hers. He traced her lips with his tongue before dipping between them and deepening the kiss. Claire sighed as she finally abandoned her efforts not to touch him. She slipped her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and placed the other on his back. Quil pulled back a moment before shifting his weight onto his forearms and holding his torso slightly above hers, keeping their lower bodies separate before kissing her again. Claire felt the familiar pang as she realized that he still wouldn't cross the invisible line that he had set up between them. He would never give her more than a handful of kisses at a time, never hold her too close… What were they doing exactly?

Quil was pulled out of his blissful daze by Claire freezing beneath him. He opened his eyes to find her looking up at him, her mouth tight. Oh, god! He had scared her. He had been too forward, acting like a hormonal teenager and pinning her to the floor. With a pang of self-disgust, he moved to get away from her. He was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Wait, Quil. Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, Claire. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump you like that-"

"What are you talking about? You didn't _jump_ me-"

"Yes, I did. It's alright. You aren't ready and-" He again tried to move away before she forcefully tugged him back down.

"_I'm_ not ready? _I'm_ completely ready. I just don't know what we are doing." Claire wanted to laugh at the furrow that appeared on Quil's forehead.

"Uhm… I know that you aren't very _experienced_, but-"

"God,_ no_, Quil!" She smacked him on the shoulder. "I _know_ what we are doing," she said with a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "I just don't know what.. we are.. exactly. What are we?"

"Oh," he almost laughed from relief. "I don't really know how to answer that. We're just us. What do you call a werewolf and his Claire-bear?" Claire snickered.

"We're a were-bear? That sounds pretty lame." She laughed at the insulted expression on Quil's face.

"I'll have you know, hundreds of ladies would love to be the 'bear' to my 'were'!"

"Uh-huh. Where exactly are all these ladies?" Quil puffed his chest out and looked around casually.

"They're around," he sniffed. "They kind of gave up once they saw that I was taken." He snuck his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers and smiling softly.

"You mean once they saw the four legs and furry tail," she giggled. Quil flicked her lightly and laughed.

"There is no one else, Claire-bear. There won't ever be anyone else. Just you."

"Oh." Claire blushed prettily and looked down at Quil's hand as it stroked her fingers. She inhaled deeply as Quil pulled her to him slowly, settling her sideways across his lap. He nuzzled her neck and slowly kissed his way up her jaw, finally pushing his lips against hers.

**AN: Alright, the question for the chapter was "What are we?" I know it's a fairly tame chapter… I'm just getting back into the swing of writing again. Please review! I'm desperate for ideas. I have hit a mental wall with the story and I can't seem to get my Muse to help me out. All suggestions are welcome! Review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own the Twilight books. I'm only borrowing the characters and will return them mostly unharmed :P**

**AN: Hi, everyone! Look who came back! I don't have any way of defending my absence. Started college and it's currently kicking my ass, so I haven't been reading or writing fanfic until recently :( Such a shame. I'll try to update in the next few weeks since Christmas break is coming up (my goal is second half of December after finals)! I'm smelling a Christmas-themed chapter ;) Mistletoe, anyone? This chapter is a muchhhh requested one from you lovely readers, and I finally got around to writing it. Enjoy and review! **_**Italics are Quil's thoughts.**_

Quil knew that something was bothering Claire. She had passively accepted his kiss on the cheek after opening the front door before gliding towards the den and settling in front of the TV absentmindedly. Quil had followed her closely and plopped down on the couch next to her, brushing her arm with his to catch her attention. He had even smirked at her in the way that always brought a smile to her face, and she had simply stared at him intently for a moment before looking away and chewing her lip.

He was torn between admiration for the now-pouty red lip and concern for her uncharacteristic silence. His brow furrowed in confusion as he checked the date on his phone, confirming that she was not experiencing general feminine grumpiness associated with certain times of the month. He mentally went through a laundry list of possible causes for her far-off gaze and distraction. Nothing particular came to mind, and he was left looking at her profile in puzzlement.

"Uhm.... Claire?" She turned her blank stare in his direction, looking at him expectantly.

"Uh... Is there anything bothering you?" She blinked at him once.

"No.." she answered slowly. "Not... Not really." She shifted her weight on the cushion, and Quil saw her eyes nervously twitch towards the edge of the coffee table in front of the sofa. For the first time, his attention was drawn towards a colorful magazine resting innocuously by Claire.

"What have you got there?" He reached over slowly, jumping back as he saw Claire make a sudden movement towards the magazine as if to snatch it from his gaze. Fortunately, his lightning-fast reflexes had the magazine caught in his grasp, and Claire simply buried her face in her hands and sighed resignedly. His eyes widened as he noticed a tell-tale blush slowly blooming on her cheeks and neck. What was going on?

He looked down at the magazine in his hand, forehead furrowing as he stared at the large letters printed across the front: COSMOPOLITAN. His eyes started to widen further as he noticed the headlines splashed across the front page: 10 THINGS THAT WILL DRIVE HIM CRAZY! WHAT YOUR MAN REALLY WANTS IN BED! NEW SEX STATISTICS THAT WILL SURPRISE YOU!

He drew his gaze from the sultry woman posed provocatively on the cover and stared at Claire in shock. She was seventeen! Why was she reading this? Did she think they were going to-?

"Uh... why are you reading this, Claire-bear? You know we aren't- we won't- I mean, we're not ready for..."

Claire rolled her eyes and snatched the magazine back from him. "Relax, Quil. I wasn't going after all the sex articles to learn how to... make you happy. I know we aren't even close to that point."

Quil let out a breath and laughed nervously, pulling Claire near, settling her against his side, and plopping a kiss on her head.

"So... why were you reading it?" Claire huffed and snuggled under Quil's arm.

"Sarah said that the average man has seven sexual partners by the time he becomes an adult," she began softly. "I didn't believe her, so she lent me the magazine where she got the statistic from. I just read it."

"And?"

"And, according to this study, it's true." Claire sat up slowly and Quil idly stroked her cheek. "I was just surprised. That seems like a lot of women for each guy."

Quil nodded seriously. "Not every guy is committed to one woman, Claire-bear. You have to look around for the right person sometimes. A lot of the times it's not even about finding the right person. Some people just do it for fun and it doesn't really mean anything."

"Yeah..." she agreed quietly, looking out the window thoughtfully. Quil's brow furrowed as he noticed the far-off look enter Claire's face.

"Is there something else on your mind?"

Claire's head snapped back in his direction, the blush dusting her cheeks growing darker.

"How... how many have you been with?" Quil blinked twice.

"Women?"

"Yes."

"I've been with... _sexually?_"

"Yeah."

Quil rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, exhaling deeply in disbelief. _I cannot believe I am about to have this conversation._

He turned to Claire, grasping both her hands in his own. He sent up a brief prayer that she would not react too badly.

"You have to realize that I'm over 30 years old, Claire-bear, even though I act like a child sometimes." He grinned playfully. "I was over 18 years old when I met you. You realize that, don't you?" She nodded silently, her heart thumping in her chest.

Quil could feel the pulse in her palms speeding up and kissed her hands gently, trying to make her relax a bit.

"I've been with two women in my life." Claire's chest spasmed in burning jealousy, her stomach filling with heavy emotion that felt like a bucket of lead. Though she had suspected that Quil had been with other women, she could not help the surprise she felt at the confirmation that he had just given. She turned her eyes away from his, looking at the magazine resting once again on the coffee table. She began to feel alarmingly insecure and inadequate: she didn't have any experience compared to him! He must think her a naive little girl! Panicking, she tried to reclaim her personal space. Quil tightened his hold on Claire's hands as she tried to slide them out of his grasp.

"Stop. Stop it. Listen to me!" He pulled her hands roughly to his chest, trapping her tear-filled eyes with his. "Listen to me, Claire. That was a _long_ time ago. The first was before I even knew you existed. The second was a mistake not long after I met you." Claire took a moment to process what he was saying, calming down slightly. That meant he had been single for over 15 years! Still, she had caught on to the word he had used:

"A mistake?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I was trying to run away from something I thought I had been forced into. I thought being with her would help, but it didn't. It was terrible." Claire rubbed her thumbs against his hand, sensing that he truly regretted the incident.

"What did you think you were forced into?" Quil sighed, bending down and kissing her palms again.

"It doesn't matter anymore. The point is I never made the same mistake again." Claire heard the tone in his voice that said he wouldn't go into anymore detail and decided to let him escape with his vague answer. She sat silently, not really knowing what to say.

"Are you upset with me?" he asked gently. Claire thought for a moment. She was not angry at Quil, she decided. Jealous of the mystery women? Of course. Angry that she had to share that special part of Quil with others? Yes. Wanting to know who they were so she could suck out their private memories of Quil with a straw? Duh. But she could not blame him.

"No," she answered honestly. "I mean, I can't really get upset over what you did over a decade ago. I don't have to like it," she added with a smirk. "and I don't. But, I can't really change it."

"It was a long time ago," he repeated. "There's someone else on my mind nowadays." He smiled softly before tilting Claire's head upwards, brushing their lips together. Claire finally relaxed a bit, returning the kiss happily. She had just moved her hands into his hair when-

"Don't get me wrong! I got lots of offers." Claire sighed dramatically, moving towards the other side of the couch and resisting the urge to kick him.

"... I mean, come on! I was young, muscular, powerful..." Claire rolled her eyes.

"... couldn't resist the tattoo..." She mentally shook her head, trying to hold in her giggles.

"... just a sexy, lovable guy all over!" he declared happily. "Everyone wanted a piece of this." He caught sight of her look of skepticism. "What?! They did!"

Claire's laughter suddenly filled the air. "Of course they did, Quil. Of course they did." She settled back on his lap, kissing the petulant pout from his face.

**Alright, guys! There you go. A longer-than-normal chapter just to get back in the swing of things. The question for this chapter was "How many women have you been with?" I think this was an important issue that our favorite pair needed to discuss: the different age (and level of experience) between Claire and Quil becomes more obvious as they get more romantically involved. Anyways, REVIEW and let me know what you thought! I would LOVE more requests! **


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